


LokiXReader- After Infinity

by Kipkat



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, kind of a slowburn with definite angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-03-19 20:16:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kipkat/pseuds/Kipkat
Summary: Loki/Reader fic in which you, the reader, are a sassy space renegade ;) Takes place after the events of MCU 'Infinity War', in which everyone's favorite Trickster God is not actually killed by Thanos, but still wounded. Many space adventures await, probably. Still being updated!





	1. Welcome Aboard

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Welcome to the verbal diarrhea that is my fanfiction. I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Feedback is very welcome, as is constructive criticism. It's been a hot minute since I felt comfortable enough with my writing to post it publicly, and that's bound to change, but for now I am all in.  
> I will try to update regularly. I currently have a few fics in the works, so it depends on what fandom mindset I'm in, but I digress. Onward! :)

The smell of of fuel and fetid rot assaulted your senses as rough hands thrust you unceremoniously onto the cold floor of a dingy, poorly-lit cell. Struggling to regain your balance, you propped your iron-clad wrists against one leg, swiveling back to the strong-and-very-silent type that had man-handled you deep into the bowels of the Ravager _Endeavor_ , a massive vessel used as a collection point and port to the M-ships the outlaws were so fond of.

“Customer service is an area of opportunity, but the ambiance almost makes up for it,” you called out as the thick slab of a solid steel door was slammed shut inches from your face, a gust of damp air rustling through your disheveled hair. The steady echo of heavy footsteps faded, and you let out a sigh. Attempting to take in your surroundings, you squinted your eyes against the poor lighting, the only source struggling to permeate the thick air through a narrow slat in the cell door, located at about eye-level. The fouled light illuminated the foremost section of the cell, revealing a few thin soiled sheets that were, perhaps at one time, white. Multiple dark stains cut arcs across the layout, the remnants of previous, ill-begotten occupants. Upon closer investigation, you noticed the stains were layered, flaking and crusted thickly in more than a few spots.

You shivered involuntarily. Clearly, cleanliness nor a general sense of hygiene were very important to your new hosts. 

Snatching up the least bloodied scrap of fabric you could find, you laid it out parallel to a mostly unscathed section of a corroded wall, shackles jangling in a tuneless cacophony. You quietly took a seat, bringing your knees up to your chest, and begun to think.

“Hello.” A silky voice drifted from shadows in the far back corner of the room, tearing you from your thoughts and causing you to jolt to your feet in shock. Straining your eyes, you could just barely register the faint outline of what seemed to be a man, towering over you by a few heads at over six feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at the murky form for what seemed to be an eternity in stunned silence.

“How long have you been there?” you blurted out, dumbfounded. The figure emerged from the blackness, a pale hand absentmindedly brushing off the ever-present filth from a loosely fitted veridian tunic.

“Long enough,” he mused, wrinkling his nose at a smudge that refused to be patted out of his sleeve. “You certainly made an entrance. The crew seemed to have been in quite a stir.” His emerald eyes glinted mischievously, ringlets of raven hair falling against his high cheekbones.

Still stunned by the revelation of this almost ethereal stranger, you cleared your throat, giving him a quick once over. His inky-black hair was disheveled, descending in unruly sheets that dangled just passed his shoulders. His eyes were slightly sunken, the gauntness exaggerating his already severe features. Dried blood cake a gash on his right temple and his fingernails were lined with dirt and grime. His bedraggled look was completed by an ensemble of a long-sleeved green shift and a pair of black trousers, tattered and torn at about mid calf. His feet were bare and bruised, although in the low light it was hard to make out to what extent.

“You're a prisoner,” you stated matter-of-factly, as though it were possible that someone locked in a cage to be anything but. Something about his appearance nagged at you and you tilted your head, eyeing your new cellmate with apprehension. You lifted your wrists into the air. “Where are your bracelets?”

The stranger smiled weakly, placing his hands out in front of him. A muted flash of green and a moment later, the unmistakable clank of metal on metal reverberated throughout the cell. Another second later and the strange verdant light dissolved the restraints, leaving the flesh on his wrists porcelain and unmarked. You pursed your lips, your mind drawing a blank. After a moment of brief deliberation, you thrust your hands towards him. “Mind helping a fellow inmate out?” you asked nicely.

He shook his head, a faint smile still playing at his lips. 

“Alas, I can't. Apologies. It's merely illusion magic. I... _persuaded_ the guard into thinking he had already put them on.” He shuddered as he surveyed their current living quarters. “I may be trapped in this hellish place, but I refuse to be chained like an animal.”

“You know, I understand where you're coming from,” you replied thoughtfully. Leaning back against the frigid wall, you let a smile break out across your face. “Luckily, we shouldn't have to suffer in these less than ideal conditions for much longer.” You feigned a yawn, peering over at the other prisoner with one eye, waiting for his reaction. He sighed, chuckling at your obvious attempt to get him to indulge you. 

“Pray tell,” he gushed. “Whatever could you mean?” 

You tucked your hands behind your head, angling them so as not accidentally knock yourself in the face with the thick metal chain binding them. “All in due time,” you replied mysteriously. “As for now, I'm gonna try and catch some shuteye. I suggest you do the same.” You glanced at him, noting his arched brow and the hard line if his mouth. “That is, if you want passage off this rust bucket.” Closing your eyes, you thought of the sunny beaches of home, the warmth of a fireplace; anything to assist in staving off the deep cold that was numbing your fingertips and sinking into your bones. You heard the slight rustle of fabric as your new acquaintance sank to the floor beside you, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you.

The man had a strange air about him, an elusive energy behind his green eyes that sparked a curiosity in you. You lolled your head to the side, able to get a better look at some of his finer features. He kept his eyes straightforward as you took in the sheer amount of cuts and bruises lacing his pallid complexion. Casually stretching your arms in an upward motion, you caught a glance of a sickly, purplish hue tainting the skin just below his jaw, the color deepening in intensity and blossoming across the entirety of his throat and neck, melding into the absolute black of his mangy hair. Stifling a gasp, you averted your gaze, trying not to imagine how painful a wound like that must be. _What happened to him?_

“So,” you began in a carefree, albeit curious, tone. “Your...magic. How come you're in here? Why don't you just…” You spread your fingers out on either hand, starting at your fingertips while mouthing the word “poof”.

He angled his head back against the wall, eyes closed. “I thought you wanted to get _'some shuteye'_ ,” he replied, mimicking your choice of vernacular in a clipped tone.

“Color me curious,” you retorted, slightly amused at his childishness. “On my planet, magic is a bunch of dead canaries for the sake of a disappearing act, and fake hands.” 

“That's not magic.”

“Tell me about it. I was scarred when I found out I didn't actually have an untapped well of quarters behind my ear.”

Opening his eyes, his raised a quizzical brow. You shook your head. “Nevermind.”

He shifted his weight, turning to face you, one arm propped against his knee. “You're from Midgard,” he said slowly, flicking his fingers in thought.

“Midgard? If 'Midgard' is 'Earth', then yes.”

“Huh.” His mouth opened slightly and he stared off into the dark edges of the steel coffin.

“Why? Where are you from?” You asked. As far as you could tell, he looked pretty human. An above-pedigree human, sure, that was evident even taking into consideration the physical damage and malnutrition. He could be Kree as well. A fair amount could pass for human, minus their superior strength. The magic aspect stumped you though. Your limited knowledge of alien beings aside, you weren't aware of any beings that practiced real magic-

Your eyes widened. “Asgardian,” you half-asked, half-asserted.

He gave a bitter smile in response, as though there was something you were missing. “Do you not recognize me?”

The question caught you off guard. Recognize him?

“Should I?”

“Do you spend much time in New York?”

You shrugged, shaking your head, “Can't say I have. Visited Times Square once, saw The Lion King on Broadway.” An outlandish thought occurred to you and you leaned forward. “You an actor?”

_An Asgardian actor on Earth_ , you chastised yourself. _What a dumb assumption_.

He brushed it off, clearing his throat absentmindedly. “What piques my interest-,” he started, inquisitive eyes boring into your own, “-is what a Midgardian is doing light years away from her home. Upon my last visit to your planet, the inhabitants weren't exactly up to speed with interstellar travel.”

You raised your shoulders in response. “I was bored. Met some people, decided to get the hell off that rock and see the stars. You know, adventure stuff.” You hugged your knees closer to your body. “Did you know there's a massive outpost based inside the skull of a long-dead creature? That beats an oversized ball of twine any day.” You didn't know if he understood your tourist trap reference, but you were pretty sure your meaning was clear.

“Strange creatures,” he murmured under his breath.

“What was that?”

The screech of metal being pried open against its will shattered the air, the unholy squeal ricocheting in the small space, and a sliver of putrid light appeared a few feet above the bottom of the cell door.

“Dinner, maggots,” a gruff voice barked from the other side as two metal trays were tossed through the opening, clanging to the floor and spilling unknown contents across the ground. A single canister of clear liquid followed suit.

“Thank the gods,” you exalted in dramatic fashion. “I ordered room service _hours_ ago.” You clambered to the door, peering through the slat and up into the yellow-tinged eyes of a Ravager outlaw.

“Any way I could get my satchel back, good sir?” You asked sweetly, referring to the search and seizure protocol a particularly handsy brute had performed on you ensuing your capture. He snorted in disdain and turned to leave.

“It definitely doesn't have my lockpick in it!” You called after his lumbering form. He muttered something that vaguely sounded like “Damn terrans”, and disappeared from sight as he rounded a corner. You sat back on your heels, eyeing the grayish mush that coated the tarnished serving dishes. 

“Any good?” You asked halfheartedly. He was regarding you with an amused look.

“I haven't had the pleasure,” he replied, gesturing to a pile of rancid dishes stacked against a far wall that you hadn't noticed before.

You moved for the clear bottle, liquid sloshing as you scooped it up. As you did so, you realized his eyes roved over it hungrily as he licked chapped lips.

“Here.” You tossed the bottle and he caught it in one swift movement, making a show of slowly twisting off the silver cap in an attempt to disguise his thirst. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a deep drink, not letting a single drop escape. At the halfway mark he offered the canister to you, but you declined with a bat of your hand. You weren't sure of the last time he had had water. Bottle drained, he tossed it aside. 

“Thank you,” he murmured sheepishly, still looking parched. You felt a pang in your chest for the stranger. 

Although it was an unexpected hitch in your plan, you were getting him out of here.


	2. Trouble in Not-so-Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Pssst...hi. This chapter is pretty much a direct continuation from the last chapter. I had to put in an awkwardly placed transition because I didn't want to post 10,000 words at once, and this is how I had previously broken it up when I originally posted it on DeviantArt so...forgive me?_ <3

“So, this escape plan of yours,” he diverted the subject to the pressing matter at hand.

“Who said I have an escape plan?”

He rolled his eyes, his tolerance of you clearly waning. 

“Sorry,” you replied briskly, feeling your own nerves start to toy with your facade. “It's taking a bit longer than expected,” you admitted, lazily tossing your leg out to the side and narrowly avoiding a splotch of scaly black tarnishing the floor. 

“Fantastic,” he groaned, tossing his head back.

“Hey,” you scolded defensively.”I don't see you doing any better on your own here. How long have you been like this anyway?”

Expression muddled in deep thought, his long fingers twitched towards his throat, caressing the heated skin with a feather touch. “Not very long,” he scowled, eyes blackening in sullen remembrance. His gaze darted to you suddenly and he raised an index finger to his lips, using the other hand to point to the ceiling. 

Furrowing your brow and straining your ears, you realized what he meant. Even in the depths of the ship, you had been able to hear the murmurs and drunken cackles of the crew, made fainter by the thick walls and incessant whine of the engine. Now, all noise had subsided, save for the rhythmic pattering of water dripping from a leaky pipe somewhere above. 

“They shut down the engines,” you breathed. The vessel was dead in the water, or rather, the abyssal vacuum of unending space. 

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. _Finally._

“Okay-” you turned to him, about to relay the details of your plan, when suddenly he was upon you. 

From his seated position, he spun around and upwards, pressing your back against the damp wall, pinning you forcefully in place with his forearm as if you were a ragdoll. “What the hell-?!” You tried to cry as he clamped a clammy hand over your mouth, stifling your screams and slowly depriving you of oxygen as his arm crushed deeper against your chest. Crimson and black spotted your vision and you felt your hands grasping and clawing at his grip in a futile manner, before falling limply to your sides. Your mind clouded and you felt like you were plunged underwater, a frigid tide threatening to drag you to the inky depths. A hint of a slight breeze fluttered across your clavicle, and you could've sworn you heard a stream of hushed curses. 

“...such weak creatures,” the fuzzy voice spat, hardly audible, and an immense weight eased itself off your chest mere moments before you went under. Vision returned slowly to your blinking eyes and the sudden rush of blood pounded painfully in your ears. Dazed, you became aware of a soft, pillowy object nestled against the crook of your neck, wisps of jet black hair drifting across your flushed cheek. 

“Be very still,” a clear voice whispered, cool puffs of air causing the flesh of your exposed throat to prick. “Don't make a sound. Do you understand?”

You nodded your head in jerky motions, dizziness causing your eyes to once again lose focus. “I'm going to remove my hand now,” he breathed, apparent stress weighing his words.

The chilled skin of his palm was lifted from your lips, and you silently gasped, sucking in a lungful of the tepid air. Amidst the eerie silence, shaken only by your uneven breaths, the clattering of metal and a sickly thump erupted from down the hall.

Moving with inhuman speed, he gripped you by the shoulders, flinging you both into the back corner of the cell, fleeing the encroaching light as something moved swiftly down the hallway towards the brig. He placed a hand on either side of your head against the corner, effectively pinning you in place, your face level with the ghastly bruise scarring the alabaster skin of his neck and clavicle. A flash of green seemed to dot it's way around you, pixelating your two forms, and you looked up at him, eyes wide in fright. He returned your gaze in earnest, eyes steely, yet fraught with...fear?

The cell door was ripped off its hinges, shrieking as metal was wrought from metal, twisting and tearing away until it was tossed into the middle of the dreary cell. Your breath caught in your throat. Despite the horror coursing through you, morbid curiosity demanded you to rise on your tiptoes in an attempt to glance over his shoulder. In response, he pressed his body firmly against yours, halting your movement.

But the damage had been done.

He felt you shudder, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you, and his muscles tensed.

An alien figure stood in the decimated doorway, tall and postured, one hand folded delicately behind his back, the other held aloof in the air. The face was smooth, shorn of the protuberance of a nose, beady eyes scanning the room, glinting with sinister intelligence. Its wrinkled skin was pocked and tinged blue, and an unsightly dent was etched across his temple, carving its way back onto his skull. The figure was clad in dark robes, the hem of which was glistening with a sickening crimson hue. The narrow hallway was a garish scene, scattered body parts still twitching, the floor slick with Ravager blood. 

The creature eyed the room suspiciously, black orbs regarding the untouched platters of food with ominous curiosity. 

Captivated, you watched in suppressed horror as the alien figure flicked its' wrist, sending the metal trays flying in all directions with such telekinetic force that one embedded itself in the wall a foot to the left of your head. The others clattered harmlessly to the floor, none alerting Ebony Maw to the presence of any living beings in the cell. Shielded by an illusion, you watched in disbelief as the alien turned gracefully on his heel, satisfied with his search, and glided away to check the other cell blocks. Your eyes met with those of your protector and held his gaze in fearful understanding. Not breaking eye contact nor threatening to take a breath, you flinched as the other doors were liberated from their hinges and used as projectiles intent on maiming any unlucky occupants. As you listened to the psychic work his way down the cell block, you eyed the entrance, noting the immediate coast was clear for an escape. You squeezed a lean arm by your head, jutting your chin towards the open door. He shook his head, expression strained. “No,” he uttered hoarsely, understanding your train of thought. 

A sudden shriek from a few doors down drew both of your attentions, the outcry of a discovered prisoner. Though muffled, you were able to make out most of the dialogue, spoken in a clear, scholarly voice. You were shocked to realize it was delivered in perfect English:

“Do not despair, for you are all children of Thanos now. Your sacrifice is an honor, as you will take your place in history among the ranks of those alleviated from their suffering by the divine titan, to give way to a prosperous future.”

A bloodcurdling scream abruptly cut off, ending in a gurgle as you heard the life violently wrenched from the prisoners body. This pattern repeated over the next few minutes, the alien incarnation of the grim reaper reciting his death chant in the chosen language of his victims; then silence. As the echoes of the last death wail faded, the telltale clop of measured footsteps headed back towards the entrance. The sadistic visage appeared once more at the mouth of your cell, perusing the bloodsoaked ground for any signs of a disturbance. Exhaling a foul breath, he continued down the hallway and back to the main body of the vessel, robes slapping wetly against the alien equivalent to ankles. Soon, you were left with the only the ghosts of the recently departed and an encroaching scent of blood and death.

You clenched your jaw against the shudders that wracked your body, burying your face into the strange man's neck, shackled wrists pressing into his chest as you sobbed silently. Seemingly unsure of what to do, he awkwardly replaced his arms around you, pulling you back from the numbingly cold wall into an almost equally-chilled embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered, using the hem of your sleeve to dry your eyes. Suddenly aware of how you were entangled with him, you pressed him away from you lightly, careful to stay within the confines of his miraculous illusion. 

“What was that?” You choked out, keeping your voice low. 

“Hopefully, you won't find out,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Forgive me for my sense of urgency, but that escape plan? I'm extremely partial to anywhere but this vessel,” he spoke hurriedly, head cocked to one side, slender arms folded across his chest. 

“Shit,” you expelled, a torrent of expletives tumbling passed your lips. You crouched down, sliding your fingers into the side of your boot, retrieving two small electronic devices that had, predictably and purposefully, survived seizure. The first, you snapped into place behind your ear, a portable high tech rebreather and communicator you had liberated from some unlucky looters a while back. You gripped the second device with both hands, sliding them apart to elongate the gadget, producing a holographic screen within the rectangular borders. You pointed towards a dot on the screen. “That red arrow is our current location,” you explained, scanning the lines on the screen that created a blueprint of the _Endeavor_ between your fingertips. “There,” you gestured. “That green dot? That's our ride.”

He furrowed his brow. “But according to that, it's hardly a viable option. It's on the other side of the ship, and there are an assortment of unfriendly types impeding our way,” he stated with a twinge of annoyance. 

“You haven't known me long enough to doubt me,” you pouted, returning your attention to the blue glow of the map. “We _will_ need to find an extraction point though. At the very least, an airlock. Unless-” you shifted your gaze, casting him a peculiar look, “-are Asgardians any good at holding their breath?” The look on his face was all you needed to push the thought of a deep-space freedive out of your mind. “Yeah, that's not something I'd like to do ever again either,” you muttered. After some deliberation and brief calculation, you tapped a few places on the holo-screen, setting up a rendezvous point at an airlock mostly used to discard waste and float the occasional mutineer, located on the same floor as your present location. 

“Hopefully there aren't any goons in our immediate vicinity,” you contemplated, shaking out your arms and stretching your legs in anticipation of a mad dash to freedom. Inhaling deeply and closing your eyes, you tried to expel all thoughts of how things could go wrong, especially with an additional body and the unexpected threat on board. _This was supposed to be a simple recovery mission,_ you groaned inwardly. “We have to make a quick stop,” you said reluctantly, fiddling with a loose piece of hair. 

He blanched. “You must be joking,” he hissed, a look of incredulity spreading across his features, emerald eyes widening. 

“I'm not leaving without my stuff,” you asserted stubbornly. “They grabbed it when I boarded. I'm getting it back.”

He waved his hands in front of your face. “You don't understand,” he struggled to keep his voice level. “This ship is swiftly approaching its expiration. If Thanos is aboard, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he is, we have very little time until we are obliterated,” he continued, solemnly. “I've seen this before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, surveying how his hand had returned to his neck, wincing at the slightest touch. 

“Okay,” you finally conceded. Shoving the holo-map into his astonished hands, you stared him dead in the eye. “Do you think you can figure our how to read that?” Your face was serious. He nodded hesitantly, green eyes wild and shifting in the yellowish light. 

“Good. Get here-,” you fingered the blue dot, marking the airlock rendezvous point. “I'll let Aldia know you'll be there so there won't be any surprises.”

“Al-?”

You cut him off, pressing forward with the gameplan. “Wait at that extraction point for as long as you safely can. Anyone pursues you, you get the hell out of here. With _haste_ ,” you added for emphasis. He nodded reluctantly, eyes solemn but determined. Even if your plan failed epically, you could tell- he was someone who would find a way out, no matter the cost. Survival instinct was imperative in your line of work, and you felt that was a quality he had in spades. _Possibly dangerously so_ , you grimaced at your plan to send a stranger in your place, to board _your_ craft. He had turned out to be useful thus far, though, you mentally argued with yourself. 

“Having second thoughts?” Came the tense interruption to your moral quandary. You shook your head and exhaled, mind set. You tucked a finger behind your ear, pressing a button on the rebreather and activating its communication system.

“Artemis One, this is (insert gamertag or callsign of choice, ps4, xbox, etc lol), are you present?” You spoke gently, testing the built in mic. A brief crackle of static greeted your ears, followed by a metallic screeching that made you flinch; then finally, “ _(y/n), thank God! What the hell happened? The boat lost all power, I wasn't able to board_ ,” the feminine voice came through the comms, mildly distorted from the thick walls between between sources, but audible. Relieved to hear your crewmate was okay, you let out a breath. “Brief ya later. Slight change of plans, we can't get to your location without risking almost certain and definitely violent decimation, so I marked a rendezvous point on the map. Do you see it?” You heard a muffled rush of air in your com and rested your head in your hand. “Aldia, I need a verbal response, I can't see if you've nodded or shaken your head,” you sighed, only a little exasperated. 

“ _Shit, sorry. I miss having visual capabilities. Simpler times,_ ” came her wistful reply. _“Yes, right here. Airlock 342, lower levels…..ah, okay. I've got it!”_

You smiled, eager to be back on your vessel. This excursion had turned out less than desirable. “Good. I picked up some carry-on, it'll await you in the airlock for immediate extraction.”

He snorted. “So I'm luggage now, am I?”

You shrugged him off. “Luckiest luggage alive, from where I'm standing.”

Aldia squealed in your ear, the exclamation audible to your new friend, who massaged his temples and sighed. “Moving from one hell to another….”

 _“A new friend?”_ Aldia gushed. _“Pulling away now, headed to the rendezvous,”_ she narrated in the voice of a giddy schoolgirl. _“I'll have the welcome wagon out for ya,”_ she said, and you pictured her golden curls bouncing with glee as she ran her lithe fingers over the controls in expert manner, the way a master pianist manipulates ivory keys. 

You grinned, excited to get back home.

“I'll scout ahead. When I give the signal, get to that airlock as quickly and as silently as you can,” you ordered, reaching out a hand to point at the holo-map once again. He grabbed your arm firmly, with more force than he probably meant to, to stop you from turning away. 

“I'm fine as long as I have passage off of this deathship, but yours is a fools' errand,” he said in a low voice. “Abandon it. Come with me.”

His voice was smooth and urgent, and to your surprise, you found yourself sorely tempted. Placing your other hand on his, you smiled at him in understanding. 

“I'll be fine,” you assured him, gently prying his fingers from around your wrist, shackles still swaying, biting angrily into your flesh, rendering them raw and pink. “I'll be right behind you.” You nodded and turned to leave the relative safety of his illusion, before an errant thought came to mind. 

“I can't believe this,” you laughed awkwardly. “I never caught your name. I'm (y/n).”

He averted his gaze to the filthy ground, nervously clasping his palms together in front of his body. After a brief pause, he replied.

“Loki.”

“Oh, like in Norse mythology? God of mischief right? Cool namesake.”

He looked at you expectantly, eyebrows raised in anticipation. 

The odd silence made you shift uncomfortably. “Well, we should move before, you know, we _die_.”

“Effective pep-talk,” Loki chimed. “See you on board.”

“Aye,” you concurred. “Once you're in, we should be able to communicate. Let me know you got there safely,” you added sternly. 

“Of course.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you said to yourself, momentarily fidgeting around the waist band of your pants, limited in your current mobility. Producing a small brass key from the folds of fabric, you flashed Loki a comical smile, and proceeded to insert the key into the heavy shackles chaining your wrists. One by one they popped open with a _clink_ , and you caught them before they clattered to the ground, slowing them to a silent descent.

“Snatched them off a Ravager as soon as he clapped them on,” you said innocently. “This was never intended to be a cage for me.”

“Just an elaborate ruse gone terribly wrong?”

“Afraid so.”

And with that exchange, you gave Loki a supportive wink and left the illusionary corner of the cell, making for the hallway with silent determination.


	3. The Mediocre Escape

The plan had been so simple; you would sneak aboard the _Endeavor_ , providing a distraction so Aldia could dock without being noticed and slip aboard, liberating the Ravagers from the burden of an object you had been hired to steal back. This time you had lost the coin toss and it was your turn to be taken prisoner, which you hadn't minded at first. It really gave you a chance to let your witty, sardonic nature shine, maybe work on some new material to taunt your captors with. You loved seeing how far you could push people's buttons. 

You had pulled this same routine dozens of times with other outlaw crafts and dens in numerous situations. You hadn't even _needed_ to pickpocket the key to your most recent shackles; you had done so out of spite, as the not-so-smooth Ravager had roughed you up a bit more than you deemed necessary. You always carried a miniature multi-tool in the heel of your left boot, for emergencies.

Once the payload was secured, Aldia would send a signal, letting you know that the job was done, and you'd covertly break your chains. All that would be left to do would be to make it back to the _Artemis_ , typically in a manner that required much shouting and praising the hosts for their _hospitality_. Was it usually the smartest move? Nope, but it left you with a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest that you yearned for after humiliating some bad guys. Newly acquired artifact from a group of baddies for the sake of a very wealthy buyer? 800,000 units. The look on a Ravager's stupid, ugly face when he's discovered he's been had by a couple of girls? Priceless. 

Clearly, it hadn't gone quite according to plan. You had thought the sudden shutdown of the engines had been a little extreme on Aldia's part, but still just, as it would take longer for the crew to recover and tail you. That is, until you realized that it wasn't Aldia. Which brought you to now.

You huffed to yourself, carefully sidestepping a hunk of rendered flesh and silently tip-toeing down the narrow hallway-turned-gravesite. You kept your eyes forward, making every effort to avoid the slick puddles of blood decorating the path, guts strewn about like confetti at a celebration gone horribly wrong. Straining your ears for the slightest hint of oncoming danger, you reached the bend and slowly extended your neck to peak around the corner. 

The hallway extended into a dark, ascending staircase, which was mostly clear of scattered organic debris and bodily fluids. More importantly, it was empty and quiet. You turned your head back, motioning to Loki that the coast was clear. The illusion of the faux cell wall was still in place, so you were hoping he was paying attention. A shimmer of green, and the illusion fell away like a curtain descending to the ground, revealing a determined Loki. He nodded stoically, lips pressed together and made to your position, taking long strides on lithe legs. He made a face as he attempted to avoid the crimson-splattered sheet metal of the ground, taking hesitant steps with his bare feet. 

“Get over it, you baby,” you whispered harshly. “What are you afraid of, space-AIDS?”

He glared at you, over extending his leg and leaping over the largest hunk of corpse in the vicinity, what looked like a torso.  
“That's the least of our concerns if we don't pick up the pace, _darling_ ,” he quipped. 

“Don't _'darling'_ , me cowboy,” you spat right back, gripping the handrails of the staircase and testing each step carefully before applying your full weight. Slowly, you took two steps at a time until you finally could see the mouth of the doorway leading into the main hold of the ship. Since the engines had stopped running, only the emergency power was on, casting the central hub in a scarlet glow that made your head spin. As you tried to make out the dark shapes, Loki tapped your shoulder. “I hate to insult your Midgardian senses, but I feel I'm better equipped for scouting. This room is clear.” He paused. “Minus the recently deceased.”

You nodded in thanks, and pointed to the left, where you saw the faint yellow outline of a hatch, with the numbers “342” plastered across it in large, blocky black text. A small window towards the top allowed you to see into the hatch and passed another reinforced clear barrier, and into star-studded space.

“That's your stop,” you nudged him in the arm. “You'll have to manually open the hatch, which is that lever right there.” You pointed to a console jutting out of the wall to the left of the hatch, where a thick metal pike extruded, pointing straight up. “Pull that down, the doors will open. Aldia should be there shortly. She's going to extend a temporary airlock from our vessel, encapsulating the hatch so that when you manually open the outer doors, you won't get sucked into space; you'll be able to walk right on board.”

He agreed with a curt nod. You tried not to sound condescending, but you could tell he wasn't someone who liked being told what to do. _He'll live with it_ , you told yourself. Because that was the point. _He'll live._

“Good. Thank you,” you added quickly, trying to lighten the mood. “Now this is the important part. Because _EVERY_ part of this is important, and integral to our survival. When you manually open that hatch, it's gonna sound something awful. Metal screeching, all that fun stuff. Anybody within a few floors of us is going to hear that, and if there's anybody on the bridge, they're going to see that an airlock was breached once you open the outer doors.”

“You know, you wouldn't have to explain this in such detail if we were to take our leave now,” he said, admittedly correctly. 

You humored him with a weak smile. “I believe you when you say this 'Thanos' is bad news. But that Ravager asshole stole my jacket and my bag, and I'm just not leaving without them.” It wasn't a lie; he _had_ taken your effects, and you _did_ need them back. You also needed what was in your bag to help you locate the energy signature of that damn artifact. You weren't leaving without your payday, danger be damned. That was part of the job. An occupational hazard.

“If I abandoned a mission every time my life was in jeopardy, I'd be very poor and very bored. Now wait here, illusion yourself into a corner or something. If things start to go south, get through that airlock.” Turning your head into your shoulder, you directed towards Aldia, “What's your position, lady?”

 _“En route, m'dear, moving s-l-o-w-l-y to avoid detection. There is a MASSIVE vessel out here, I can't believe my scanners didn't pick it up until it was on top of us. Don't wanna tangle with that beast. Maybe about-”_ the line went silent for a few seconds, _"-three minutes?"_

“Awesome, good call.” You shot a cryptic smile at Loki, who had turned an unsightly green color at the mention of the hulking ship. “Awaiting you at baggage claim.”

“You're not as funny as you think you are,” Loki groaned. 

“It's all part of my renegade charm,” you jokingly punched him in the shoulder, wincing as your fist collided with what felt like concrete and pouting when he didn't so much as budge.

“You think you can survive three minutes without me?” You teased.

“Just hurry up. Please,” came his terse reply. He handed you the holo-map at the behest of your outstretched hand.

“Gotcha. Magic yourself, wizard,” you sang as you wiggled your fingers at him and danced away, stealing into the deep red shadows of the ship. 

Once you left Loki at the airlock, you dropped your smile and focused on the task at hand. You found it difficult to determine between fresh gore and stockpiles of cargo, making your trek to the upper levels slightly more inconvenient that it would've been otherwise. Cursing your absentmindedness, you pressed a button behind your ear, triggering the rebreather mask. The nano-tech enveloped your face, creating an airtight seal against your skin, and you cycled through visual options until you found the infrared sensor on the visor. 

Your vision exploded in an array of red and yellow, swathes of color arcing in every direction. The visor also supplied you with a clearer view of corridors and entry points, as well as any warm bodies that may be close by. Reading the holo-map through clearer eyes, you located the tracker in your satchel at two floors up, in what looked like a private chamber.  
_Great,_ you thought bitterly. _Bastard took it with him._ Upside, once you got there you wouldn't be in plain view of the prying eyes trying to mutilate you. Downside, if the Ravager had been tucked away while the larger enemy had boarded, he could still be there. 

As quickly and as silently as your legs could take you, you darted around corner and dashed up staircases, cautious to avoid the slightest noise. It only took you a couple minutes to make your way to the location pinging on your map. You narrowed your eyes, keeping your breaths even.

The sliding mechanical doors had been wrenched open by something exuding great force. _Like how the alien in the cell block sent things flying with his mind like he was tossing pennies into a well,_ you thought grimly. Liquid splattered the remains of the entrance, transitioning from dull yellow to a light bluish green, according to your infrared vision, telling you that the this had happened long enough ago that you didn't suspect the perpetrator to be in the immediate vicinity. Performing a quick scan of the area, you found no notice of any biological life signs. You turned the corner into the room, immediately laying eyes on the Ravager that had been so keen on patting you down and relieving you of your things. “You shouldn't have been too rough with the lady bits,” you mumbled to the corpse, it's glazed eyes gaping at nothing in particular. “Maybe we could've been friends. Who knows,” you said, almost sadly, as you yanked your brown leather satchel out of his clenched death grip. Sighting your jacket on a nearby desk, you perked up, swiping it up and stretching your arms through the soft leather. Tanned and dyed a rich mahogany color, you had the jacket commissioned after a particularly successful mission, in which a not-so-lucky Manticore was introduced to the wrong side of a very pointy stick. 

Manticore leather was surprisingly supple, and very, _very_ tough. 

You hugged the jacket to your body for a moment before shaking your head and getting back to business. You jammed your hand into your bag, searching for a frequency monitor about the size of a cassette player. Fingers closed around the hardened metal and you yanked it out, flipping a switch and making sure it was tuned to the correct frequency. A red blip appeared on the silver device, searching for its intended target. After a few seconds, the blinking subsided and glowed a bright purple, finding a match. You grinned. You gripped the holo-map in one hand and the monitor in the other, drawing them together closely and transferring the location of the purple blip to your map, akin to the bluetooth technology of Earth. 

“Bingo,” you whispered as the purple dot appeared on your map, located one floor up, almost immediately above your current position. 

You reached into your bag once more, this time withdrawing a medium-sized plasma pistol you had won in a gamble during your time in Knowhere. Checking the circuits were clear and replacing the anti-matter core, you flicked the safety off in anticipation of not-so-friendly fire. Shouldering your bag and tucking the monitor into your pocket, you made for the door.

The trek up the last staircase was simple and speedy; there was no indication of resistance.

You heard them before you saw them.


	4. Purple is Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hi again! Not-necessarily-fun-fact, but a fact nonetheless: I got really frustrated trying to find the appropriate descriptive words for a particular shade of color and went a little nutso. Decided not to cut it to add that sense of the flagrant dissolution of my mind as I wrote that chapter. It reads better if your heart rate is 200bpm and you're screaming it aloud. Hope everyone is well! *hugs and kisses*_

_You heard them before you saw them._

“….send the Chitauri?” This voice you recognized from the cell. The next was new to you.

“This was an amply fortified vessel. I am confident in my plan, but it would be foolish to let such a close target go unhindered on the off-chance of resistance. As futile as it may be,” the deep voice ended in a chuckle, and you felt chills creep up your spine. The thunderous voice exuded an air of calm that was on par with the frigid emptiness of space. 

You pressed your back into the wall of the corridor, drawing your weapon. You did _not_ want to get into a firefight with a creature that could literally tear you apart with a look and a wave of it's spindly fingers. The smooth feel of the trigger under your index finger did, however, reassure you slightly.

“Ah, of course my master, eternal Thanos,” Ebony Maw conceded, the swish of his robes alerting you to their decreasing distance. 

You held your breath, not risking the sound of retreat. They passed by the opening to the stairwell. 

Struck with a thought, you slowly drew up your weapon and aimed at at the back of a bareheaded lavender patch of skin. Loki was terrified of this purple alien creep. Wouldn't the correct course of action be to eliminate the threat? It may even get him to praise you, if only just a bit.

Not that you cared.

Your finger twitched along the trigger, the sight lining up with the base of the huge alien's skull. 

_It would be a killshot, if it hit_ , you debated. You had no doubt that you could quickly divert your sight and take out the psychic as well. Both of them had their backs to you, and were steadily growing farther away…

Clenching your teeth, you lowered your weapon. You couldn't risk the safety of Aldia, or Loki for that matter, on the slim chance that you could take them out on your own. You had no idea if your plasma blast would even penetrate their skin. The psychic could have some sort of perpetual force field, or ridiculous premonition that would render the blast a moot point and your body a sack of lifeless meat.

Scolding yourself, you holstered your weapon and waited for their next move. 

“I think we're done here,” Thanos said, surveying the landscape of decimated corpses. “It's unfortunate. Even when given a choice, their actions demanded death,” he mused, almost apologetically.  
_THIS self righteous asshole_ , you thought pointedly.

“Come, Maw. Return with me to the ship, then take to Earth. I expect gathering the Infinity Stones there should be within your capabilities?”

“I graciously accept this charge, humbled by your trust in me.”

“It has been earned a thousand times over,” came the reply.

You feigned vomiting. _Get a room._

Thanos lifted his tree trunk of an arm into the air, hand sheathed in gold. A brilliant flash of purple ignited the room, followed by a cool blue as the two figures disappeared in a whirl of obsidian.

A serious of violent explosions rocked the vessel, as the purple smoke began to spread. You realized, to your absolute horror, that the ship was in immediate peril. You were out of time.

 _Shit_.

You flew passed the hold, where just seconds ago, Thanos and Ebony Maw had been standing. Following the path to the blinking purple blip on the holo-map as quickly as humanly possible, you weren't worried about running into any adversaries. This boat was going up in flames. 

As you dashed through the narrow corridors, you passed a manual lever etched in crimson Kree glyphs. _Fire alarm._ Without stopping, you pulled the lever, hopeful that Loki would get the meaning and blow the hatch, if he hadn't already. You weren't sure of the damage the strange purple explosions had done to the lower levels. The incessant blare of the alarm rang throughout the vessel.

Water sprung from the ceiling in a preemptive attempt to quench the violet flames spurting from the walls. You only had a matter of minutes, maybe seconds, before one of those explosions breached the hull and you were sucked into outer space. While running, you slid a hand inside an inner jacket pocket, retrieving a circular metal disk and pressed it to your chest. A flash of blue erupted around you as the force field enveloped your body, shielding you from any irregular environmental conditions. 

You watched the map as your icon grew ever closer to your target's. Dashing around the final corner, you came to an abrupt halt. A thick steel door stood in your way. You slammed your hand down onto the button marked “Open”, but nothing happened.  
The emergency power had been diverted from personal quarters. No amount of button pressing was going to get that hunk of metal to move. 

_“What's going on up there?”_ Aldia's worried voice rang in your ears, fighting with the incessant tolling of the alarm. 

“Not much, just sightseeing. There's not enough words for purple, do you know that?” Your reply came out in breathless spurts, winded from the dash to this seemingly dead-end. 

Pulling out your gun, you aimed it at the seam of the interconnecting doors and fired off a few shots. Splotches of charcoaled residue appeared at the contact points, but hardly a dent was made in the dense metal. 

The explosions grew louder as they approached you, and you tried to even out your breath. You drew your attention to the console housing the controls. Reaching down to your boot, you extracted your multi-tool from its clever hiding place, flicked it open and selected a laser screwdriver accessory.

“Mauve and fuschia are like reddish, at least that how I think of it,” you mused as you took the tool and popped off the casing of the console, exposing it's electronic guts. A multitude of color-coded wires sat in front of you, connected to a green and silver circuit board. You knelt down to get a better look, temporarily holding the multi-tool in your teeth.  
“Plum is like a deep purple, lavender and lilac are too light, and who the hell wants to describe something as 'orchid'? That's a flower!” You continued in controlled frustration, giving your mind something to focus on as you let your hands lithely whir over the cables, pulling apart some wires and rearranging them. You grabbed the tool and flipped it to a pair of minuscule scissors, expertly clipping wires and stripping back their rubber coating, exposing their inner components. You selected the appropriate wires and entwined them, using a small torchlight to solder them together.  
“And what the heck is heliotrope? It's another goddamn flower! Someone please have some originality and give me a word that just means 'purple', so I can describe to you in vivid detail HOW PURPLE MY LIFE IS RIGHT NOW,” you finished your rant and slammed your fist against the green button. The heavy doors sputtered to life, and with a groan, drew apart just as a concussive blast a few yards behind you sent you sprawling to the ground. 

_“Grape,”_ you heard a low voice answer in the background of your communicator, as you scrambled back to your feet.

 _Thank God,_ you thought, heart pounding in your chest. _He made it._

 _“I'm assuming you're not making it to the rendezvous,”_ Aldia's voice took over the comm. 

“That's a resounding negative.” You dashed into the room, searching frantically for anything that might contain the object you were looking for. 

Whipping out the frequency monitor, you scanned the room. The closer you were to the item, the quicker the purple light would flash. You opened dresser drawers with reckless abandon, tossing clothing around the room. You knocked over familiar looking lamps, and scrapped completely alien technology. 

Suddenly, the light on the monitor stopped bleeping, and was completely solid. Your breath caught in your throat. Not moving your feet, you reached down, grasping a thin mattress and yanked it off it's frame. A small silver box lay, glinting in the GRAPE light. Bringing the monitor closer, the GRAPE light did not waver. You grabbed the box, not bothering to check the contents. You knew this was it. The merchant had said it was a small object, encased in silver. 

_Looks good enough to me._

“Aldia! Meet me on level 37? I feel like taking a moonwalk. Would love it if you could help me out.”

You pocketed the small box and the monitor, tossing the holo-map back into your bag as well. You made sure your weapon was holstered securely and double checked the force field was still active. Pressing on the rebreather, you ran a quick diagnostics scan to check your equipment. 

_“Preferred exit point?”_

“As close to crew quarter's block 57 as you can get without messing up his room.”

 _“See ya, space lady,”_ came the chipper reply. You thought you heard an outburst in the background, but chalked it up to interference, due to the ship's exploding nature. The engine cores were probably going haywire. _We're gonna need to put some distance between us and this tin can of doom, real quick._

 _“Oh, and, um...we're going to have a little conversation about the company you choose to keep,”_ she said, sounding like a mother scolding her child.

“Can't wait,” you said drily. Clearly, Loki had a way with people. You couldn't wait to find out what he'd done to piss off Aldia, the most people-y person you had ever met.

“Come one, Aldia, screw evasive maneuvers, act like a can opener and peel this bitch open!” You called out nervously, starting to feel the heat rise even through your temperature-regulated force field.

_“As you wish!”_


	5. Grape is a God-damned Fruit

An explosion ripped through the corridor in front of you, wrenching the metal apart like a kid pulling apart a Twinkie to get to the cream filling. You watched in slow motion as everything was sucked into the void, an array of metal debris whooshing by you, the vacuum peeling pipes, wires and cables as thick around as your torso through the gaping hole. Lights were extinguished, all sound ceased, and you crossed your arms across your body, hugging your knees into your chest as you were pulled into the vast depths of space with a force that would've knocked you unconscious if it weren't for your equipment. 

You found yourself in eerie silence; the only sound to comfort you was your labored breathing. Tumbling through the lack of air, you felt the subtle hints of an unbelievable cold just micrometers from your fingertips. Peering through the gaps in your arms, you made sure you weren't in any danger of being impaled by floating space debris, then unfolded yourself, trying to get a sense of your surroundings. 

A trillion stars sparkled in the space around you, strewn across a velvety black background that was whirled with undertones of deep blue and purple. The only thing for you to gauge your location, your up and your down, was the shattered remains of the _Endeavor_. You watched in awe as the vessel took her dying gasps. All of her emergency lights flickered, a final convulsion, and then she was silent. Teetering in what felt like an upwards motion, your legs floated about your head, and you began tumbling aimlessly in the endless black. 

_“Major Tom, I am locked on your position,”_ Aldia's voice sounded almost crystal clear now; there was no outside noise to interfere. 

__

You glanced around you as you tried to distinguish the blood-red M-ship from the wreckage of the _Endeavor._

From what you thought was above you, a large object came into view, slowly bobbing it's way to you. Aldia had cut the engines, and was relying on you to grab onto the vessel. You caught part of the wing between your fingers and, slowly, pulled yourself towards the rear hold of the ship. Silently, you floated back towards the cargo bay. 

As a child, you were always envious of birds for their ability to fly. You weren't aware of anybody who wouldn't want to experience that sort of freedom. Your first outing to space had been one of splendor, revelation, and horrific realism.

This was nothing like birds.

Birds didn't have to deal with the existential crisis of staring into an inhabitable, soul-sucking void.

Clutching an outcropping right about the rear hatch, you steadied yourself. 

“In position. May I come in your back door? Over,” you jested. Nervousness was not conducive to quality puns. 

You watched in silence as the hatch lowered itself, opening the airlock. You slipped inside, not waiting for the door to open completely, and depressed the close button. Once the door was secure, you made your way to the forefront of the airlock, spinning your way to an obnoxiously colored black and yellow lever. Bracing yourself against the ceiling, you kicked downward, effectively pushing the lever and immediately activating the gravity and oxygen sensors. Landing gracefully on your face, you hopped up and took a gratuitous bow. 

You deactivated the portable force field and your rebreather, feeling the welcome blast of cool air on your face as the ship regulated the O2 levels in the airlock. Once stabilized, the internal doors opened, and you strode through them, tossing your head in proud defiance of the death you had just conquered. 

“Heya, nerds,” you hollered, spotting Aldia fiddling with the controls at the front console. Flipping the autopilot switch above her head, she twisted around and leaped up, crossing the distance between you in mere seconds. She grabbed you in a vice-like hug, strawberry blonde curls pressing against your face, a loose strand getting stuck uncomfortably in your eye. “Aldia,” you exhaled, strenuously. “Can't. Breathe.”

“Sorry!” She yelped, pulling back but not releasing you. “You dummy! That was dangerous, I was so worried!” Her voice was like bubblegum and sunshine, not the usual kind of person you tolerated, but Aldia was special. She might look like all smiles and rainbows on the surface, but at the end of the day, she's really just a 60 year old lady with a tobacco addiction, wearing a unicorn onesie. 

“Did you get it?” She pried, instantly talking business. 

Retrieving the silver box from your jacket, you held it up with a sly smile. “Did you ever doubt that I would?”

She fidgeted for a moment, twirling a piece of golden hair between her fingers. “Honestly, as soon as I tried getting on board and found out that she was dead in the water, I was a bit panicked. I mean, it was my job this time.” She narrowed her eyes. “You never radioed in. I couldn't get ahold of you.”

“Sorry,” you admitted. “I was a little preoccupied with some..unforeseen circumstances.” You looked around quickly. “Actually, speaking of which, where is Loki?”

“Oh yeah! About THAT,” she exploded, withdrawing her hands from around your waist. “Why the hell did you bring that monster on my ship?” She said, ending in the shrillest of tones.

You cocked your head to the side. “Huh? He's just a guy. I mean, an Asgardian guy, but still.”

She shook her head so hard, it looked like it was going to roll of to the side. “No. No no. Nononononononono.” She spun you around, pointing you into the far back corner, where Loki sat on the floor, rope stretched taught around his chest and midsection, hands bound behind his back.

“Hello,” he said drily, in a comical reenactment of your original meeting. 

You looked at Loki. Then you looked at Aldia. Then back at Loki. “How-?”

“She's quite agile, that one,” Loki nodded towards a fuming Aldia. “I never stood a chance.”

Your mouth gaped open. “Aldia, what the hell?” You walked towards Loki to untie him and were abruptly stopped by Aldia lashing her finger around your leather-clad bicep.

“Do you not recognize him?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? What is he, a k-pop star?” You threw your hands in the air in frustration. “He was a prisoner there, a _real_ prisoner. Aldia, you didn't see what boarded that ship. He would've been slaughtered, along with everyone else onboard! Along with me. He saved my life,” you strained, not understanding why this was even an issue. 

“New York,” she said bluntly.

“What?”

“The attack on New York! 2012? Alien monsters reigning from the sky, certain doom looming above mankind? The attack in Germany? He's that golden-horned asshole!”

You fell silent. 

Slowly turning back to Loki, you squinted your eyes. You walked over to him, brushing off Aldia's advances with a raised finger. 

You looked at his matted hair, framing his damaged face, and then down to his neck, where the horrific smattering of blue-gray flesh presented itself. You knelt in front of him, gently brushing aside the wisps of hair to get a better look. You winced. Seeing it in this light, you couldn't understand what could inflict that sort of damage without fatal consequences. You raised your gaze to his eyes, verdant flames encased in obsidian lashes. His expression was neutral, but still, their was a pain behind his eyes that you knew you likely never fade. 

“Grape,” you said in a flat voice. “That's a goddamned fruit.”

He looked at you in confusion, and then the slightest of smiles inched it's way across his lips.

“I know you're just playing opossum, dummy. No way you got taken down by a 26 year old human girl,” you whispered so that only he could hear. He gave you a knowing look and dropped his head forward, closer to you.

“So what do you think of me now, knowing what you know?” He replied, his voice low and gravelly. 

You took a breath, thinking of Aldia's irate reaction to the mere sight of him.

“I think you killed a lot of people,” you started, uncertain of how you were going to turn this to Loki's favor.  
“I think...you had plenty of chances to kill me, and you didn't. I think you could've easily used me as a distraction and slipped that cage, especially with your...talents.” You took a bracing breath. “I think you were still in that cell for a reason, and it wasn't because some Ravager put you there. You _wanted_ to be there.”

His expression didn't seem to waver on the outside, but you saw his eyes widen as your words hit home. You had found his vulnerability. 

_He hates himself._

Not needing to say those words aloud, you turned to Aldia, gazing up at her from your kneeling position. “I think he's suffered enough. I think he's paid for his crimes, I truly do,” you said, eyes drifting back to the severely mottled flesh. “If it's all right with you, do you mind if we let him up?”

Aldia's face was stern. She was silent for several moments, and you saw the vein in her temple pulsate angrily. Her right eye twitched and then she spun on her heel, tossing her hands in the air and letting out an exasperated cry.  
“Fine! Let's do what _you_ want!” She turned back briefly, jabbing a finger at you accusingly. “But when he betrays us and leaves our bodies on the floor, Caeser-style, I'm going to make your time in hell a _living hell_.”

You stifled a grin, and cast a bemused look to Loki, giving him the 'okay'.

He flexed his chest outwardly and the ropes encircling him snapped, his hands performing a similar motion behind his back. The ragged material fell from his body as he stood upright, stretching his joints and shaking out his legs. 

“I don't recommend that,” he said with a huff, and you couldn't help but break out in peals of laughter at Aldia's stunned expression.

Surprising yourself, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around Loki's solid torso and burying your face in his chest, careful to avoid any proximity with his injury. “Told ya we'd get off that hellship,” you giggled, unable to hold back the hot tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. 

A gentle arm encircled you and you felt a weight on your head. Glancing up, you quickly realized that Loki was rhythmically patting your hair, stroking in downward motions, like one would pet a dog.

You didn't care. You were too happy that you'd made it out alive.


	6. Clean Times and Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hi all! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has already viewed this in the short time I've posted it on this site, the kudos mean a lot. So thank you, truthfully. That's sappy...this chapter kind of begins the inevitable fluff, which I'm incredibly nervous/mildly proud (?) about? Maybe? And also I'm slightly inebriated so apologies if I wasn't as astute in my editing as I should be. HAVE FUN OUT THERE BEAUTIFUL CHIKADEES <3 see ya next chapter :) _
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> _and just ignore my chapter titles, they mean nothing but bring me joy_
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“Here.”

You tossed a powder blue container from the cabinet towards Loki, and he caught it with nimble fingers, eyeing it suspiciously. 

“It's for your face. And the rest of you,” you explained, dragging your eyes down the length of his grimy personage. “We don't have a shower aboard, so it'll have to do until we make our next stop.”

He fiddled with the top, unable to decipher how the plastic box of baby-wipes opened.

You rolled your eyes and took dramatic steps, closing the gap between you two and snatched the Cottonelle container from his grasp. Depressing the plastic indent on the lid, it popped open, and you grabbed several thin wet wipes from the box. Tossing it aside, you brought the first wipe up to his face, ignoring his attempts to withdraw and patting the caked blood around the gash on his temple. Eventually, he surrendered with a theatrical sigh, and let you go about wiping the filth from his porcelain complexion. 

“You know,” you started slowly. “If it weren't for all this dirt and blood, you might actually be kind of attractive.” You admired the way his dark brow arched in disbelief at your forwardness, starkly contrasting his newly cleaned skin. 

“Why am I even surprised anymore,” he sighed. “Although, you do remind me of someone from your Earth.”

“I bet they're a blast to be around. Good looking too, right?” You winked at him, discarding a grubby wipe in a nearby trash bin. 

You motioned upward with both hands. “Alright, take off your shirt.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Off with it,” you repeated. “You smell like a literal sewer, and death. You smell like all the death that happens in sewers. We can hand wash it, it'll be dry in a few hours. More importantly, it'll be _clean_.

Eyes locked onto yours, he lifted the green tunic slowly, wincing as he raised his arms over his head. You tried to avert your gaze as he exposed his abdomen and upwards, revealing a torso that seemed to be sculpted from icy marble.

 _Earth men are ruined for me_ , you gulped guiltily. 

“Stop ogling me,” came his muffled voice as he struggled to to pull the fabric over his head. 

“How dare you,” you replied defensively. “Ogling implies that I like what I see, which I do not.”

“And why's that?” He fired back, finally inching the soiled sleeves down his lean arms, his dewy skin pulled taught over wiry muscle. 

“You're just not my type,” you replied flippantly.

“So even though I'm 'kind of attractive', you don't find me attractive?” He ran his tongue over his lips, seeming to take joy as you fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“Do I need to bring up 'sewers' again? Plus, you're not even the same _species_ ,” you jabbered on, flinching as he tossed the filthy garment at you. “You're an _alien_.

Loki muttered something under his breath that made him chuckle.

“Okay. I will do your laundry _once_. Then that's it, buddy.” You scowled at him, shoving the rest of the wet-wipes into his hands. “You're on your own for the rest of your 'bath'.”

Loki stood in the middle of the ship, shirtless, arms held out carelessly on either side of him. 

“So you don't want me to take off my trousers?”

You felt the blood rush to your face, and your cheeks turned bright pink. Your mouth fell open at the audacity of this...well, this _god_.

“Cracked your facade, have I? I'm only joking. If we're being entirely honest, you're not much my 'type' either.”

You dropped your gaze, suddenly very interested in rummaging through a duffel bag of clothes you had packed for the current excursion. Dragging out an oversized white tee that you typically used as a sleep shirt, you chucked it at him, and he narrowly avoided catching it with his smug face. 

“I see I've touched a nerve. I was only partaking in your particular flavor of conversation,” he said, seemingly apologetic.

“I don't have any pants that will fit you,” you mumbled, ignoring his attempt at reconciliation. “We'll grab you a new wardrobe at the next stop.”

He fought with the thin white fabric for a moment as he stretched it over his head, taking precaution not to further damage his tender neck. Even though the shirt had been almost dress-like on you, the shapely outline of his pectoral muscles still managed to define themselves against the breathable fabric, the short-sleeves pulled taut against his biceps. As much as you didn't want to admit it, he looked pretty good. 

Aldia was at the helm, a few yards behind you, shielded from midship by a row of bolted seats and an electronics walls extending a few feet from either side of the vessel. She hadn't said much since Loki broke his bindings, other than rant about how S.H.I.E.L.D has a bounty on his head and it would do them good to collect. You had brushed her off, firmly stating your opinion on _that_ idea. You had no doubt that Loki would take his leave of you if you planned to turn him in to an Earth government. Plus, in a short while, you wouldn't exactly be strapped for units.

“What is our next destination?”

“Xandar,” you replied curtly, still not meeting his gaze. “We have a buyer for the artifact. I intend to collect, and for more than was previously set, seeing as we almost lost our lives in pursuit of it.”

“Xandar,” he repeated slowly. “Capital of the Nova Empire. A bit militaristic, perhaps, but I've heard they do have some lovely architecture. That'll suit me just fine.”

You stopped fiddling with your clothes and raised your gaze to Loki. He was leaning against a metal column casually, fingers interlaced and resting near his lap.  
He regarded you expectantly, mouth parted slightly, dark hair still matted and mussed. You withdrew a comb from your duffel and made your way to him, pulling out a chair and beckoning him forward. 

“Sit.”

He looked like he was about to object, but thought better of it and obliged you, turning his back and plopping into the leather-backed swivel chair. Tentatively, you brought the comb through his raven tresses, working slowly from his ends to mid-lengths in silence. 

“Should probably run your head under the sink,” you muttered, drawing your fingers through the greasy mess. 

“It's a shame you couldn't see me in my prime,” he began to monologue, either oblivious to your sour mood or trying to bypass it. “Prince of Asgard, rightful ruler of Jotunheim, standing in a golden palace. I wore only the finest silks and leathers, not whatever this-” he picked at the fabric of his shirt in mild disdain.

“It's cotton,” you interjected. “And it's a freakin' miracle fabric. Like spandex.”

Your tone shut him up temporarily, and you took solace in the measured, continuous passes the comb took through Loki's hair. 

Against his better judgment, Loki spoke. “And the company was far more enjoyable.”

“Was Prince Loki this much of a pain in the ass?” You asked through gritted teeth.

He let out a scornful laugh, and you flung the comb aside, watching it clatter lazily to the metal surface of a table. You made to brush by him, headed to your small on board cot, but cool fingers laced themselves around your heated wrist, pulling you back gently.

“Wait, (y/n).”

“What,” you snapped.

He raised his hands towards you, then seemed to think better of it and clasped them together, gesturing towards you, and dipping his head apologetically. “I never did thank you,” he murmured, peering at you from under hooded lids. “If it weren't for you, I probably never would've made it off that ship. For the sheer fact that I didn't want to,” he lowered his voice as he approached the end of his sentence. “You were right. I may not have put myself there, but I kept myself there.”

You stayed quiet, staring straight ahead at his pronounced clavicle. 

“I just...wanted you to know that,” he said hesitantly, dropping his hands to yours and giving them a brief squeeze. He stepped passed you, situating himself in the corner where you had set him up a small inflatable mattress. He rested his head on the flimsy pillow and turned towards the wall.

Breaking away to your own corner of the ship, you flopped down onto the cot and angrily wrapped the pillow around your head, livid with yourself for the strange feelings coursing through you.  
No one had _ever_ frustrated you as much as this supposed Norse god, and you had only known him for a few hours. Yet, in that short time you had endured much more than the average person would endure with a complete stranger. 

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You weren't exactly sure when you fell asleep, and you didn't recall waking up, but you found yourself standing in the aft cargo bay of the ship, staring passed the triple reinforced window of the airlock and into star-riddled blackness. You barely heard the slight rustle of wind as he glided beside you, taking your hands in his and raising them to his lips. Without a sound, he slipped behind you, moving your hair to the side with a few lithe fingers and lowering his lips to your neck. You closed your eyes as his kisses grew in intensity and he began nibbling on the sensitive flesh, flicking a warm tongue across your flushed skin. “Loki,” you murmured, inhaling sharply as he spun you around and pressed you into his body, his mouth working back up and under your jaw. His fingers slipped under the loosely fitted cotton of your shirt, up around your naval, slowly drawing across your ribs. Your heart fluttered in your chest as his palm pressed against the supple skin of your breast, gently kneading until you felt your nipples became pert, and live-wire sensitive. Taking it between two fingers, he ran his thumb across its surface, causing a tight wave of pleasure to begin to rise deep within your abdomen. You clutched his shoulder with curled fingers and bowed your head into his chest, breaths starting to come in ragged gasps. 

Raising your head, you began searching for his lips, only to pull back in confusion. Loki's eyes glowed an ethereal blue, and his hair was slicked back and shorter, flipping out behind his skull in curved razor points. Etched onto his face was a wicked sneer, and a spatter of crimson blood speckled the left side of his face. “Did you honestly think I would ever be with someone like you?” He smiled venomously, brandishing the sharpened point of a golden scepter that was slick with fresh blood. 

“What-?” You said, dazed, and then a bloodcurdling shriek tore through the still air. 

“Your friend had it right,” he continued, turning his head to the side and motioning towards the convulsing figure splayed out at his feet. Aldia lay gasping, sputtering dark fluid from her lips, a jagged hole centered in her heaving chest.  
Terror enveloped you and you tried to scream, but you were unable to make a sound. Your feet were glued to the floor, and it was all you could do to tear your eyes away from the horrific scene in front of you. He grabbed your face with a blood-soaked hand, jerking it upwards so you could look at him. The metallic glint of a gold helmet framed his face, and two curved golden horns sprouted from the crown of his head. “This is what I am,” he growled in a dangerously low voice, and you tried in vain to tear yourself from his grasp, broken breaths passing through your throat as choked cries. You watched as he angled the hilt of his scepter behind him, aligning the gore-coated tip with your frantically beating heart, and screamed as he thrust it into your chest. 

You lurched awake, choking and sputtering as you clutched your chest, ragged breaths ripping through your lungs as though you had never inhaled before. 

“Are you alright?” Bright green eyes appeared before you and you flinched, drawing back as far into the corner as you could. He knelt before you, hand on your shoulder and you withdrew at his touch, stomach threatening to lurch into your mouth. “Were you injured on the ship?” He pried, taking note of your avoidance with a curious tilt of his head. 

“I'm fine, go back to bed,” you replied hoarsely, wide eyes boring into the ground at his feet. 

He stood up hesitantly, and turned to leave. “You said my name,” he stated lowly.

“Bed,” you snapped harshly, gripping the sheets around your legs in panicked embarrassment. You heard him plod away reluctantly, not raising your gaze from the floor until you heard the rustle of sheets as he settled back onto the mattress. 

You dropped your head to your angled knees, stifling a sob as heat flooded behind your eyes. Slowly, the adrenaline faded and dark shapes started to play behind your eyes as you drifted, once again, into unconsciousness.


	7. Well, That Increased Rapidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Welcome to a new chapter! I had this done probably two weeks ago, but was hesitant to post it, because I have a million possible ways it could lead into the next chapter and I still haven't decided on which direction I'd like to go. So what would you like to see? Smut? Mystery and intrigue? PLOT? Leave your thoughts in the comments! I'm dying to know. Annnd back to it!_
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“Nine hours till the jump point to Xandar.” A sleepy Aldia prodded you awake. “Your turn to drive.”

“Nngghhh,” you groaned, blinking sleep from your eyes. You adjusted quickly to consciousness, as the only lights were the ones flickering orange and green along the interior panels and consoles of the _Artemis_.  
Rising groggily to your feet, you snatched up your blanket and cast a quick glance at Loki's still form across the room. Your last bout of sleep had been dark and dreamless.

You moved so Aldia could collapse onto your cot, tossing her a new blanket from an overhead cabinet. She fidgeted for a moment before snuggling into a corner and promptly falling asleep.

You made your way to the helm, grabbing a bottle of water and a power bar from the kitchenette as you passed by. Slouching into the vinyl chair, you propped your leg onto the dash, not bothering to buckle the X-crossed straps of the seat belt. You didn't actually have to drive, just make sure nothing altered your course, and keep an eye out for suspicious crafts.

Your watch passed slowly and you struggled not to drift off while staring into the black void of space. The sheer vastness made you wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Mind if I join you?” His shadowy form moved slowly to occupy the chair next to you, his knees spread casually. He leaned forward, propping his elbows against the dark fabric clinging to his thighs.

You kept your gaze forward, focusing on the citrine-colored swirl of a distant galaxy. “Thought you'd be out for a bit longer,” you said.

He shrugged. “I was idle for long enough in that cell.” Hesitantly, he added, “And something was bothering me.”

“Oh?” you replied in a neutral tone.

He shifted his weight to face you, and you could feel his eyes boring into the side of your skull.

“Have I done something to upset you?” He asked softly.

You snorted. “I don't get _'upset'_. _'Upset'_ implies a certain degree of emotional connection. I especially don't get _upset_ by prissy space hitchhikers.” You finally turned to meet his eyes with a tight smile. “I'm honestly fine.”

He tilted his head to the side, loose tresses falling against his cheek at an angle. “At first, I believed it because of the revelation of my true identity, and my part in the invasion of your home world.”

“Failed invasion,” you interjected drily. He arched a brow, continuing. “But you hadn't batted an eye at your friend's accusations against me, even when they involved murder.”

You stared at your feet, still clad in your mid-calf boots. “Everybody has a past. My moral slate isn't exactly squeaky-clean, and neither is Aldia's. Not by a long shot.”

“So what changed? Why does this feel...different?”

Raising your head, you knit your brows together. “Different? Loki, I've known you for a matter of _hours_. Not even a full day. You have _no idea_ who I am, just like I don't know who you are.” You took a deep breathe, surprised at your outburst.

“My point exactly,” he said seriously, and you noticed his gaze had hardened, faint lines etched into the porcelain skin of his forehead. The gash above his brow had already begun to pucker and heal over, and his face was close enough that you could see the pinkish hue of new skin taking its place. 

“I..don't..” you stammered, unsure of what he was getting at.

“You're Midgardian, fragile and weak. Your own people don't accept their kind, and you infect everything you touch, a plague among the races of all the realms. Insects,” he spat, his tone edged with steel, as if every word was sharpening a blade. 

Your eyes widened. “Excuse me-?”

“And _you_ ,” he snarled, raising his voice,”-throwing yourself into a literal fire, for the sake of greed, for material gain? I keep having to remind myself of the company I am in. The lowest tier of scum, the filth beneath my boot. The sheer fact that you were my salvation….how can I cope with myself?”

“Lower your voice. You're going to wake Aldia,” you said coldly.

“Your friend won't wake for a few hours, I promise you that.”

Your heart lurched in your chest, and an icy feeling of dread began to creep up your spine, flashes of haunted images flickering across your mind. “What did you do to Aldia?” You struggled to keep your voice even, and you gripped the armrests of your chair with clawed fingers. 

“Nothing nefarious, I assure you. She's only in a deep sleep. I didn't want her interrupting us.”

“Interrupting what?!” You burst out furiously, ripping the blanket from your shoulders and jumping to your feet. “You berating me? Belittling me for being human? For wanting something more out of my brief, mortal life? No.” You shook your head, maintaining his gaze as he steadily rose to his feet. “You don't get to do that. I may not _know_ you, but I see you. You're hateful and scared. You're running from something, and you do not get to deflect your personal issues onto me like that, not in my own home. How dare you.” You felt the heat rise in the pit of your stomach, the pounding of your heart in your chest and the blood rushing in your ears. You didn't care if he was a god. You refused to be intimidated by him.

Your shoulders trembled with rage as he looked down at you.

“Yes, I'm a monster,” he spoke quietly. “So why do you care for me?”

The shock of his words hit you in the chest, plummeting down into your stomach like an anchor. You racked your brain for a response, disbelief muddling your thoughts.  
You wanted to scream at him, demand an explanation for his actions. _'I don't know!'_ You wanted to shout. _'Why do you care that I care?'_

“I don't,” you lied evenly, momentarily forgetting that before you stood the God of Lies.

He closed the small amount of distance between you, roughly taking your face in both of his hands.

“Then why do I care?” He seethed, his cool breaths brushing by the bridge of your nose and onto your heated cheeks. You stared at him in stunned silence, suddenly very aware of your own labored breathing.

“I saved your life,” you fought to say, head spinning. “It's the decent thing to do.”

You felt his smooth thumb trace the contour of your cheekbone, trailing down and pausing on the fullest part of your lower lip. His eyes burned with ravenous intensity and your breath hitched in your throat. 

He was a terrifying, yet beautiful sight. 

“Please let go of me,” you whispered, eyes wide. 

“Fascinating,” he murmured, ignoring your plea and turning your jaw in his hands, his eyes scouring your every facial feature. You brought your arms up through the narrow space between you torsos and tried feverishly to push him away, but he merely readjusted, neatly collecting both of your wrists in one pale hand. 

“I'm not going to hurt you,” he mused. “But I could. Very easily.” His tone was more thoughtful than threatening.

“Then what the hell do you want,” you spat, jerking your head in an attempt to remove his thumb from your lip. 

He met your eyes curiously. “What would it take for you to fear me?” He guided you firmly to the metal outcropping behind the pilot seat, pressing your back into the smooth surface and hindering your struggle, forcing you to keep still.

“You _want_ me to be afraid of you?” You winced as a rivet caught under your shoulder blade, making your struggles both futile _and_ painful. “How damaged are you? I was trying to be your friend,” you strained. He laughed humorlessly.

“We both know you wanted to be more than my _friend_.” He lowered his face, parting his lips and bringing them achingly close to your own. 

“You're deluded,” you panted, trying to suppress the darkest parts of you, the parts that really wanted to find find out how soft his lips were.

The scent of powder and lavender still clung to his skin from earlier, mixing with the cool mint and sandalwood of his own natural aroma. You inhaled the intoxicating fragrance, tasting the mixture as it danced across your tongue and growing dizzier with every breath. You tried to turn your head away, but his firm hand kept you.

“Is this not what you wanted?” He purred, fingers still encircling your jaw. He raised your mouth to his, toying with the minute space between your parted lips. 

“For all your revulsion of humanity, you sure don't seem to mind it,” you remarked. “Is this similar to courting a rodent for you? If so, buddy, you've got issues.” You were finally starting to regain your faculties. 

Loki smiled. “There you are.” His thumb tapped your lip absently, and you sighed, swallowing thickly. 

_Well, he's leaving once we reach Xandar anyway._

With a burst of energy, you pushed yourself onto your toes, pressing your lips to his and squeezing your eyes shut. Catching Loki off-guard, his grasp on you weakened and you tore your hands free, relocating them fervently. You entwined your fingers in his thick hair, pulling him down onto you, your parted lips working in earnest against his unresponsive mouth. Finally recovering from the shock, his lips began melding with yours hungrily, the soft flesh coming together and pulling apart in rhythmic unison. You curled your fingers into a fist at the nape of his neck, tugging on the ensnared hair as you slipped your tongue into Loki's wanting mouth, searching for his in slow circular motions. A guttural moan escaped the back of his throat and he thrust himself forward, pinning your hips and nudging apart your thighs with his knee. His hand left your jaw and encircled the back of your neck, angling your head to give him better access to your heated mouth.

His lips were softer than you'd imagined and, to your surprise, almost ice-cold. His frigid tongue drew itself along your swollen lips like water extinguishing a flame, giving way to a sensation you had never felt before. It was refreshing, incredibly addictive, and unbelievably difficult to pull away from. 

With a ridiculous amount of effort, you withdrew, relocating your lips along his jawline and peppering his skin with light kisses between uneven breaths. Loki raised his head slightly, pulling you to his heaving chest and allowing you to drag your lips slowly to his earlobe. Steadying yourself against his muscled chest, you whispered into his ear. 

“I am not an object to toy with,” you said in a low voice, caressing his cheek with your fingers and pulling his gaze down to you. “I am not some _thing_ for you to command.” You searched his wild eyes, almost black in the low light, for a semblance of coherence. His labored breaths washed over you and you fought the urge to mesh your lips with his once more, pulling back as his parted lips lowered in anticipation of yours. Your head was light and fuzzy, and you felt like you had been drugged. 

You pressed your palms firmly against his chest and mustered up the strength to glower at him. His hair was wild, flyaway strands falling in loose ringlets on either side of his flushed face. He looked almost feral, his wide eyes set aflame with an untamed desire crouched deep within. He didn't move, and for a moment you didn't think he understood. With a reluctant glare, he allowed you to push him back, and you peeled yourself from the wall, sidestepping his tense figure and trying to regain feeling in your jellified legs. 

“Make sure we don't run into any asteroids,” you mumbled, reaching across the dash to double check the coordinates for the Xandar jump point. “Or make sure we do, I don't care,” you added, still gulping lungfuls of oxygen and trying to purge your senses of his scent. Casting him a final look, you turned on your heel and headed towards the small onboard washroom to splash some ice-cold water on your face, hesitating briefly in the doorway. “You utter _asshole_.”

He hadn't moved from his standing position as you took your leave.


	8. The Actual Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ALRIGHT EVERYONE (Long note, sorry!) I apologize for how long it's taken me to update, but I ran into a....dilemma. I wrote two VERY DIFFERENT versions of this chapter and I've been struggling with which one to post. I tried for days to integrate them into one, and just....couldn't do it. So, I've decided that I will post the other version as a separate entity on my dashboard (LokiXReader-After Infinity ALTERNATE SCENE) if you are interested in reading it. It picks up immediately after the previous chapter, but I don't want it to be 'canon' to this fic, which is why I'm struggling with the decision to post it. But I will. Because I wrote it. And why not? P.S why yes, it's smut, how did you guess? It should be up within a day of me posting this, just so I can spread out my updates a bit more evenly. Thanks for dealing with my crazy, guys. I have so many more ideas for you, and I'd love to hear any ideas you guys have in the comments! I'd like to start doing almost episodic missions, so gimme some prompts! :D_
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You dragged your feet, making your way back to the helm. A quick checkup on Aldia proved that she was fine, just sleeping as Loki had promised. Not surprisingly, the cockpit was empty, and you scoffed under your breath, trying not to think about where on board the relatively cramped vessel he could have gone. Once again seating yourself, you flipped on the ship's holo-map, squinting as a sudden flash of blue pulsed across the glass of the windshield, outlining your position in relation to your destination. Three hours until the jump point. Slouching in the chair, you sighed and tapped your boot against the floor absentmindedly. 

This journey hadn't been going exactly how you had planned. It had been over a week since you'd left Knowhere with your latest commission. Your newest client was demanding of his privacy, a trait not uncommon amongst high rollers in the market for stolen goods of an untold nature, so you had never met face to face. Instead, he had sent an intermediary to bargain on his behalf, a timid creature with rose-colored skin. The Krylorian had approached you and Aldia at a tavern, briskly explaining her master's desire for the specific object, it's exact location unknown, but speculated. She had gone on to state that the item had only recently appeared in “this realm”, and as such, it was of the utmost importance to capture and protect it before it could fall into the wrong hands. Not much caring for the gritty details, Aldia had jumped straight to the important question: how much? At the Krylorians proposal of nearly a million units, Aldia had sputtered, spilling her drink and struggling to regain her composure. Due to the unknown nature of the item, a compromise had been set: 200,000 units now to account for fuel, supplies, and incentive; 800,00 units upon delivery of the object. They had shook on it with glee. 

A sudden curiosity pulled you back from your reflection, and you rummaged through the drawers of the dashboard, unlocking the biometric seal of a narrow vault with a scan of your middle finger. Aldia had always gotten a kick out of your specific choice of digit. '“What?” You'd countered. “If anyone ever forces me to open it against my will, at least I'll get a laugh out of it.”'

The drawer popped open and you retrieved the silver rectangular box, admiring how smooth and shiny the surface was, unscathed and unmarked by the hairline texture of most metals you were familiar with. Twisting it in your hands, you tried to find out how it opened. It couldn't just be this, right? No, there was something inside; you could feel it. A strange energy pulsating through the indifferent metal, almost like a heartbeat. It grew louder, louder and you felt your fingertips start to vibrate in tune. What-

 _“Approaching Xandar jumpoint. Destination in: one hour.”_ The metallic voice chirped from the dash, wrenching you from you thoughts and pulling you back into reality. One hour? Had you been ogling this thing for that long?

“Hmph.” You tossed the infuriating box onto the counter, getting up to stretch your legs. 

Your eyes glimpsed at the corner, where only a few hours ago Loki had had you pressed into the machinery, and an involuntary shiver ran up your spine, settling in your sore shoulder. What a jerk. What possibly could have been his reasoning for that? You shook your head, reluctantly setting aside a mental note to speak with him later. As adults. Maybe you'll try not to punch him in his perfect jawline. As much as it pained you to make excuses for him, you knew he was probably going through some turmoil, and that may have caused him to lash out at you in….unexpected ways. You made another note to press him about his past, and how he ended up on the Ravager ship, looking like a the punchline to a bad joke.

_What's blue and black, and also red, pale, and green? Loki in a blender._

You cringed at your dark sense of humor, and made the rounds around the helm to make sure everything was lashed down for the jump. Entering the main cabin, you scanned for signs of life. Aldia was still snoring in her cot, while Loki's was empty, the sheet neatly pulled taut across the thin mattress. You crossed the room, lifting the mattress and depositing it back into it place in the wall, securing it so it didn't go flying once the ship launched into hyperspeed. A few more checks led you to the cargo bay, where you tested the thick canvas belts lashing your supplies to the built-in steel racks. Everything seemed secure. 

You spotted his dark figure seated in a corner, one leg pulled to his chest, the other splayed in front of him. He sat unmoving, and you realized his piercing eyes were pointed directly at you, his expression stony and neutral. You froze in place, not taking your eyes off of him. Your heart started to pick up its pace, and you subconsciously placed your arm cross your body in defense. 

That talk was going to have to be later. You couldn't stand to look at him right now. 

You made to turn around, to storm out of the cargo hold, but you turned right into the concrete chest of the god you thought had been sulking in the corner, and dread filled the pit in your stomach as you saw the illusion dissipate in a sizzle of green. You flinched back, raising your hand to your face and keeping your gaze low. 

“Now what was the point of that? You gonna assault me again?” You growled.

Silently, he collected the fingers by your face, examining them one by one curiously.

“As I recall, you kissed me.”

Blood blossomed under the thin skin of your cheeks and you snatched your hand away, fingertips tingling after his cool touch. “What have you been handling lately?” 

“What would you have done if I hadn't?” You looked up at him, ignoring his question.

He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling, as if he wasn't quite sure how to answer. 

“I don't know,” he replied casually. “Anything I wanted to, in theory.”

“What did you _want_ to do?” You stifled a gulp, the memory of his smooth hands gripping your face, his icy lips hungrily devouring your own sending a shockwave through your abdomen.

He gazed at you, his expression inscrutable, and a sense of uneasiness rippled throughout your body at his empty look.

“I'm not going to apologize,” he said, finally. You thought your feet were going to sprout roots into the metal ground before he answered you.

“Of course you're not,” you said bitterly, moving to push passed him roughly with your shoulder.

He lashed out a lean arm, catching your waist before you could walk away.

“I thought I finally knew who I was,” he stated in a quiet voice. “I thought I could finally make a _right_ decision, that I could do something worthy.”

“Yep, those were the actions of a worthy man back there,” you grumbled, uncomfortable with how close his face was to yours.

He paused. “I've always harbored a certain degree of resentment towards those who would belittle others. I'm not sure when I began to tolerate such belittlement myself, but if there's something to be learned from my past, it's that you can't allow others to define you. You can't live your life to please the ones that would be joyed to see you fail.”

You blinked a few times, uncertain as to what prompted his sudden somber monologue.

“My brother is most likely dead,” he offered as an explanation. “Along with at least half of-” he took a bracing breath, forcing the words “- _my_ people. If my actions granted even a momentary distraction and allowed the survivors to put enough distance between them and that plague ship, I will have done my part. My life for theirs. Perhaps a selfish notion, but seeing as I very well may have been the tool that enabled Thanos' conquest, a just one.” He dropped his chin to his chest, and you lost sight of his brilliant irises, raven lashes obscuring them from view. “I should have died on that ship, protecting Asgard. Of course, nothing so noble. Why do I survive?” He hissed those last words, sending chills down your spine.

_He's so broken._

Pushing aside your contempt, you leaned into his arm, allowing him to fully encapsulate your waist, and he hugged you to his chest. You didn't move; instead you watched as your breaths smoothed the creases of his shirt, creating temporary landscapes amidst the blank fabric. He absently trailed his long fingers down your arm and you shivered, pressing into him more closely. You felt his chin rest against the top of your head, his breaths blowing loose strands of hair against your cheeks. 

“I'm not revolted by you,” he murmured. “I'm impressed, although that may not be the word you'd like to hear. You've taken charge of your life, infinitesimal as it may be, and you live it for yourself. Don't allow anyone's prejudices, my own included, to cause your resolve to waver. You were correct; I don't know you, but I know you have your reasons for your actions.”

You continued to stare at his chest, watching the shadows flicker and twist in the subtle light. You didn't need his validation; that much he had just said himself. That didn't mean that it wasn't nice to hear it. You'd forgotten what it was like to have someone other than Aldia around. You didn't usually stick around a place long enough to make friends. 

“What happened to your neck?” You asked flatly, your speech slightly muffled against his pectoral. 

He let out a brief laugh, involuntarily stretching his shoulder at the mention of his grievous wound.

“Pledged my undying fidelity to Thanos. And then I went for the head.”

“Well, there you go. _'Undying'_? The universe has a twisted sense of humor.”

“As I've come to realize.”

You fidgeted nervously, tapping your fingers against his chest in a comforting rhythm.

“I had him in my sights. I could've killed him,” you whispered.

Loki's body went rigid.

“You encountered him?”

You nodded slowly. “On board the _Endeavor_. Leveled my weapon at the base of his skull. He was only a few feet from me. Him and his creepy alien butt-plug. I could've taken the shot.”

He brought his hand up, tucking a flyaway tuft of hair behind your ear and tracing your jawline with the lightest brush of his fingertips.

“I'm glad you didn't. It wouldn't have mattered. Maw would've flayed you alive at Thanos' instruction, and you would've begged for death.”

“Hm.”

The two of you fell quiet. You stayed that way, entwined in mutual support for a few silent minutes.

“You know, you don't need my permission to leave,” you said quietly. “I'm not keeping you here. Just don't burn your bridges. I can be a fairly competent asset.”

He remained silent, seemingly debating something with himself, and he tapped his thumb against your wrist absently. 

_“Approaching Xandar jump point. Destination in: fifteen minutes.”_

“Ah, shit,” you muttered, tearing yourself from Loki's embrace and marching out of the cargo hold. 

“Come one, I need you strapped in up front. I don't need the godly equivalent of a murderous projectile bouncing around the cabin once we hit the jump.”

He followed you willingly into the main cabin, coming to an abrupt stop behind you as you halted. You stared at Aldia's sleeping form huddled in the corner. 

“Can you wake her up?”

He nodded. “I could, but she looks quite peaceful, wouldn't you agree?”

Rolling your eyes, you walked quickly towards her, unraveling the blanket from her body and hoisting her into your arms. You fumbled to gain enough leverage to lift her dead-weight from the mattress, cursing as your boot slipped on the discarded blanket.

“This is painful to watch,” Loki sighed, and he glided passed you, taking Aldia into his much more capable arms. You narrowed your eyes, bitter at how simply he lifted her from your grasp.

“Don't you drop her,” you threatened. “Not even on accident!”

He snickered as he stole by you, heading to the cockpit and lowering Aldia gently into one of the pilot seats. You finished securing the mattress and skipped to join them. You saw Loki fiddling with the silver box that you had left unattended on the dash, and you tried swiping it from his grasp. He dodged your feeble attempts, seating himself between you and Aldia, and raising the object close to his eyes. 

“Is this what you recovered from that ghost ship?” He asked, curiosity playing across his intent gaze. 

“None of your business,” you replied, plopping into your own seat and holding out an aggravated hand. “But maybe.”

“Interesting.” He twirled the item in his hands, running his pale fingers across the surface and searching for any hints in its design. “It's a repository.”

“Astute observation, there.”

He shot you a look. “There's something inside, have you been able to open it?”

Shaking your head, you stood up and leaned over Loki to fasten Aldia's harness, making sure the straps were pulled tight enough so she wouldn't be jostled around like a Cabbage Patch kid in a runaway Power Wheels.

“No, it doesn't even look like it can be opened.”

“Then how do you know this is what your buyer is after?”

You stopped fidgeting with the buckles for a moment, scrunching your face in thought. “I'm not sure. It just...feels like it is? It matches the client's description.”

“'Silver box' is a pretty generic description.” He handed it back to you as you returned to your seat. “Whatever is in there harbors a vast amount of energy. That container is a dampener, though I believe even you can sense the power radiating from it. I sensed it earlier, the remnants lingering on your skin.”

He gripped your hand as you withdrew the box from his. “I'd be vary wary of whomever you pass this off to,” his eyes bored into yours, glinting in the radiant light of a passing star. You swiped the peculiar object, your gaze faltering as you attempted to stare him down. 

“Noted.” You locked the box back into the biometric safe, not realizing the vibrations it had been sending through your fingertips until you released it. 

“Alright, buckle up for safetyyy!” You sang as you flipped a switch above your head, gauging your fuel supply and checking that all systems were ready for the jump. 

Loki leaned back in his chair, sighing as he fumbled with the thick belts, pulling them down from over his shoulders and eyeing the heavy metal clasp between his legs. “This is humiliating.”

“You got choked out by a grape, you think your princely brains won't splatter across my windshield if we hit a bump on the interstellar highway?” You flashed him a threatening look. “Put on your goddamn seatbelt.”

He winced, pursing his lips and slouching back, complying with your demand. “You know, there was a time when I would gut you for your insolence, without batting an eye.”

You shivered against your will. You didn't doubt that. “Oh yeah? What happened? Finally grow a conscience?”

He glared at you, a slight smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “I've just decided you wouldn't be worth the effort.”

“Ohh, lucky me. Because next time you come at me like that, I will personally remove your balls with a rusty spoon.”

“Such a strange turn of phrase, is that a common threat?”

You nodded, fastening yourself into the seat as the clock ticked down and you saw the hexagonal pattern of the jump point shimmer into view against the endless horizon.

“Try not to hold your breath, your lungs might explode,” you said casually, engaging the thrusters and speeding towards the wormhole. You watched in fascination as the inky, star laden space around you seemed to open up, glittering specks stretching out to vibrant streaks of color, and you were slammed back into the vinyl cushion of the chair. No matter how many times you went through a jump, it never became less exhilarating. You could almost compare them to Earth's roller coasters, except multiplied by a million. 

As soon as it started, it was over and the universe came to a screeching halt around you. The view opened up to the bluish green planet, reminiscent of your homeworld, with swirls of puffy white clouds circling the land masses.

“Welcome to Xandar.” You grinned and turned towards him, stifling a giggle at how disoriented he looked from the jump. 

His hair was brushed back, strands clinging to the seat through static, and his wide eyes stared straight ahead, reflecting the glare of Xandar's three suns. 

“(Y/n)….”

“What?” You followed his gaze, through the front windshield and across the planet once again, finding the odd twinge in his voice unsettling. Finally, your eyes adjusted to the sight and you saw what he saw, jaw dropping in disbelief. It couldn't be...

“Oh, no.”


	9. Journey to the Center of the Xandar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _HOWDY. So, I'd like to preface this by saying HOLY CRAP, I'M SORRY. From the depths of my soul. I started a new job that entails a bunch of travel, thought I would have more time to write because I stay in hotels a lot now but nope, I'm always tired after work, blah blah, excuses excuses. I had the majority of this chapter written over a month ago, but I couldn't figure out the last few paragraphs. So, not too proud of this chapter, but....content? I have to move this along somehow. Sorry for rambling. In conclusion, thank you if you're still here. I'm trying to do better for you precious beans. I'm local for the next two weeks so I'm holding myself to posting again (at least once more, probs more!) within that time frame. Oh, and sorry about the crappy cliffhanger last chapter. GO FORTH AND PROSPER IN YOUR LIVES, BEAUTIFUL CREATURES!!!_
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As the _Artemis_ flew closer to Xandar, it was clearer to see. A massive black and bronze scar marred the face of the planet, an eerie molten glow suggesting a hellish fate for the unfortunate slab of land affected. Traffic to and from the planet's surface seemed to have increased since your last visit to Xandar, and there were massive fleets of large colony crafts hovering just outside the atmosphere, receiving a steady stream of smaller transportation vessels. 

“What happened here?” you whispered in subdued horror. 

Something seemed to click in Loki's mind and he shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. 

“Thanos,” he mumbled. “The power stone…it was under the care of the Nova Corps. He had that stone aboard the leisure vessel when he slaughtered my people. I'm not sure why I didn't put it together earlier. I was a fool.”

You were unable to look away from the sheer carnage of the planet. Even from space, the damage was horrendous. “Power stone…?”

Loki nodded grimly. “One of the infinity stones. I believe Thanos plans to collect them in order to enact his plan of universal balance. If he has all of them in his possession...” he trailed off, pressing his fingers to his temple. “And now because of my actions, he has two stones.”

“All those people,” you breathed, watching what was no doubt rescue craft shoot to the surface to scan for survivors. 

“They weren't prepared for such a task,” Loki said darkly. “I believe it's in our best interest to put as much distance between us and this galaxy as we can. I know a nice place on Sakaar we could settle, I may just have to do some, ah, _convincing_...”

“Remember what I said about running away? No.” You shook your head, the shock of the vicious attack beginning to ebb. “First, we need to find our buyer.”

Loki sighed. “You humans and your money. You know, I could probably just... _acquire_ those units for you, if that would slake your greed.”

You raised a surprised brow. “Really? I mean, no. Nope. We're doing honest work here. For which we get paid handsomely.”

“Honest? For what amounts to petty theft?”

You placed your hands on your ears, pretending to drown him out. “Not listening to your judgment, as per your own recommendation,” you shot back with a glare. 

He shrugged and shifted his weight, twisting at the waist to face you. 

“Are you suggesting we land amongst the rubble of that planet and search for someone who has, in all likelihood, already perished?”

You pursed your lips, tilting your head to the side in momentary contemplation. 

“We came all this way. It's worth a shot,” you finally sighed, steering the ship towards the blemished surface of Xandar. 

A quick succession of blips came through the ship's communication system, lighting up the holo screen stretching across the windshield in front of you. 

“We're being hailed,” you said nonchalantly, flicking your fingers across the dash and allowing the transmission to come through. 

_“...to unidentified craft. I repeat, this is Nova patrol. Identify your craft and your business in Xandar airspace.”_

“Greetings Nova patrol, this is personal craft _Artemis_. Our purpose is pleasure, although it looks like you may have run into some trouble. Upon my last visit to Xandar, requesting permission to land wasn't necessary. Is the area habitable? I have an appointment down below.”

_“Negative, Artemis. The planet is being evacuated, and we are under strict orders by the remainder of the Nova Force to deny entry. Turn your ship around.”_

You glanced at Loki, mouth pressed into a hard line. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he leaned forward onto his elbows. 

“In that case, we offer our services to the rescue effort.”

_“That is rather unconventional-”_

“It seems to me, you don't have much of a choice in the matter. The few ships you have commuting between the surface and those colony vessels don't look properly equipped, and are far too small to be ferrying many more than a few passengers. We can easily fit 20 people. I suggest you accept the offer.”

“And we really like helping people!” You added jovially, shooting Loki a thumbs up for his brilliant thinking. 

The line went quiet for a minute, then crackled back to life. All pretense in the officers voice had dropped and he spoke hurriedly and casually. 

_“In all honesty, that would be greatly appreciated. The majority of the Force was decimated in the attack, and my craft is one of the few left. The rest are personal ships, mostly from merchants outside the atmosphere at the time of….well when whatever happened, happened.”_

“What did happen here, officer?”

Another pause. _“I- I'm not even sure. I'm a communications officer. I was promoted to Captain after…it. There's no one left. I-”_ the voice cut off abruptly, and you felt a pang in your chest. _“I've cleared you for travel between the surface. You're set to descend.”_ The voice was back to its original steady and curt tone. 

“Appreciated,” Loki cut in, nudging your arm as Aldia began to stir in her seat.

_“Be careful down there. The quakes have been getting worse. It's only a matter of time before the planet implodes.”_ With that, the transmission was cut off, and the blue screen flickered.

“Well, this should be fun,” you muttered, steering the _Artemis_ towards the brazen scar carving a swathe through the once-verdant surface. Flickers of orange caressed the hull of the ship, and your descent yielded quite a few bumps as you tore through the atmosphere at breakneck speed, screaming through the thick air and erupting into a cloud of gray. As you approached the surface, your view of the horizon shrunk and the only sight was the pungent smoke swirling through the air, greatly reducing visibility and causing you to rely on the digital projection on the dash. 

“Holy shit,” you murmured under your breath. There were areas where the fires still raged, tendrils licking at shattered buildings and the few splotches of green left, but the vast expanses had been reduced to a smoldering plain of ash and coal. The winds whipped through the decimated landscape, tossing charred remains across the planets' scorched corpse. 

“There's nothing left. We're wasting our time here,” Loki said softly, but you picked up the twinge of urgency in his voice. You hadn't noticed how you were your grinding your teeth together, brows knitted as you scanned the singed cities, once proudly boasting of towering skyscrapers, now reduced to blackened skeletons and heaps of slag. You followed the holo map in silence, pressing the Artemis as quickly as she could fly through the hazy sky. 

“There,” you said, pointing to a worse-for-wear pile of metal and wood that was once a well known drinking establishment. Slowly placing the _Artemis_ down a few yards from the structure, you unbuckled your seatbelt and jumped up, grabbing your gun from its place in the drawer by the console and checking its power reserves before holstering it at your hip. 

“You coming with?” You asked, shooting a glance to Aldia, who turned and nestled her head between the harness and her shoulder. She was still sleeping. 

He hesitated. “Why not?” He conceded reluctantly, pushing himself up slowly. 

You nodded, and ran across the cabin to fumble through a drawer for a piece of paper and something to write with. “In case Aldia wakes up,” you explained, and scribbled a brief message across a vibrant sticky note, placing it on the dash in front of her. 

“I'm gonna run to the armory to see what we have for you,” you said quickly, not relaying that the “armory” was actually just a meager drawer of stolen guns with no ammo, and a few blunt earth objects that could do some damage in a pinch. “Do you have a preference? A certain kind of gun?”

He shook his head. “I prefer my daggers, but they were lost when our vessel disintegrated and I was set adrift in the cold reaches of the cosmos.”

You stared at him. “Alright, we're being glass half-full today. Good to know.” You pranced to the kitchenette, plucking a bladed knife from one of the drawers and handing it to him, hilt first. 

He rolled it between his hands, pinching the four-inch blade in between his thumb and forefinger and holding it up with a look of disgust. 

“You can't be serious,” he said, distaste clear in his voice. 

“As a heart attack! Relax, you won't need it,” you said, patting your firearm. “I'll keep ya safe. You know. Since you _care_ for me.” You winked at him, and made for the rear of the ship, sullen expression returning to your face as you remembered what lay just outside the steel walls of the _Artemis_. 

“We really should talk about that,” he replied glumly, sheathing the serrated butter knife into the hem of his pants. 

“I really think we shouldn't.” You yanked the release lever and stepped through the airlock, waiting as the automatic door lowered itself to the blackened soil below. Immediately, the acrid smell of smoke and death assaulted your nostrils and flooded into the ship, and you motioned for Loki to follow quickly. You hopped to the ground and took a few guarded steps forward, eyeing your surroundings carefully, before heading to the incinerated shack ahead of you. Besides the toxic wind swirling around you, nothing moved. There wasn't a single sign of life to be seen. The other rescue craft had veered off to explore other regions, and you assumed this area had already been scanned for survivors. 

You made for the entrance, for the doorframe was, surprisingly, still intact. The metal door had twisted and melted away, and you only had to stretch your leg over the pile of warped steel to gain entry to the tavern. Loki watched as you crossed the threshold, electing to stay outside to “watch for passerbys.” 

The roof was in tatters, murky light filtering through the remaining slats and casting the place in an eerie orange glow. You took a step forward, jumping as a _crunch_ echoed throughout the space, and you looked down in horror. Your boot had landed on the crispy remnants of a femur, snapping it in two and smearing the ground with powdery remains. Charred skeletons littered the floor and your breath caught in your throat.

“I didn't think you'd come,” a light, flat voice broke through the deathly silence. You flinched and whirred around to face the sound. Squinting into the flecks of gray floating through the air, you saw a glimpse of pink sitting atop a crumbling counter. You crossed the floor, avoiding the seared remains as best as you could until you arrived at what looked to have once been the bar counter top. 

“It was a gamble,” you replied bluntly. “What are you doing here?”

“We had an agreement. My master always follows through with his agreements.”

You frowned. “And is your master here?”

The Krylorian hesitated, bouncing her heel against the blackened wood absentmindedly. 

“He is...indisposed at the moment. He sends his deepest regrets for not meeting with you in person, but he looks forward to future dealings with you.” She held out a rosy hand, delicate fingers covered in a light layer of silver ash. “Do you have it?”

You patted your pocket, withdrawing the mysterious box as she offered you a tight smile. “I'll transfer the units, then.”

“About that,” you began, determined to up the agreed-upon bargain.

“Of course, due to the circumstances of our meeting, I've been authorized to offer you an additional million units.”

You balked, jaw dropping open. You quickly recovered, nodding your head and pressing your lips together. _Aldia's gonna freak!_

“Of course,” you repeated numbly, handing her the silver box.

“There's an added requirement,” she stated, as she swiped the object from your fingers. “Your silence. I was never here. You were never here.” She frowned, lavender irises flitting to glance around you. “This extends to your partner as well. I gather you'll relay the message?”

“Aye-aye, lady,” you said as you turned back towards the entrance. “Give my thanks to your boss,” you called over your shoulder, but she was gone. 

_That's odd_ , you thought, a shiver running down your spine despite the uncomfortably warm temperature. 

You picked up your pace, hopping out of the doorframe and spotting Loki a few yards away, poking at a some shards of glass jutting from a collapsed structure. You watched as he quickly sidestepped a toppling pane of glass as the ground began to shiver.

“Alright, business is done, let's get the hell off of this planet,” you called nervously, as a deep rumbling rippled across the land, seeming to rise up from the bowels of the planet, causing the air itself to vibrate. 

“I've no argument,” Loki commented quickly, taking long strides towards the parked vessel. You had to jog to keep up with his pace.

The warm wind whipped strands of hair against your cheeks, coming in strange, pulsing unison with the rumbling of the ground. A dull roar echoed throughout the expanse, penetrating the soles of your boots and sending shockwaves through your shinbones and up through your legs, increasing in violent intensity as the ground began to shift. 

You watched in horror as the dead grass in front of you began to tear, the guttural shriek deafening as the heavenly body began to wrench itself apart. 

You set your jaw and focused on the Artemis, resolving to ignore your pounding heart and put all of your effort into moving your legs. Loki was several yards in front of you, bare feet almost gracing the steps of the M-ship. A horrendous crackling thundered from around you as the very ground you were bounding across buckled, and you were sent sprawling to your knees. 

Recovering almost instantaneously, you rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a newly formed crevice and kicking yourself back onto your feet.

So close. You were so close now. 

You allowed yourself a small smile as you watched Loki bound up the steps and turn back briefly. What you could see of his face was grim, and you realized you weren't close enough. The parched land in front of you fractured like hot glass in frigid water, sizzling and popping as chunks of Xandarian soil exploded from the planet, other sinking into the depths.

You heard the sickening crunch behind you as the ground began to fall away, your toes just barely finding solid ground as everything crumbled around you. 

The last thing you saw before the planet swallowed you was Loki turning away and disappearing inside the Artemis.


	10. If You'll Have Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Heyo! It's been a while. Been trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between what I have now and what I want to happen in the near future, which is always my dilemma because, hey, that's how that works, right? So I'd just like to preface this chapter by saying that this fic isn't exactly turning out how I envisioned it, and that's okay. I got caught up in writing my newer Loki/reader and I forgot how much fun I had writing this. I still hope you guys are enjoying. Toodles <3 _
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The world shot by in a vertical blur of brown and gray; the dirt and rocks collapsing around you were the only company in your freefall towards Xandar's molten core. Flailing your arms in a wild effort, you snagged a chunk of solid ground, crying out as rough rock bit into your nails, and you slowed to a stop against the sheer face of the stony column. 

Kicking your boot into the side of the rock, you fought to carve out a foothole, something, _anything_ to help you keep your balance. 

Panting, you slowly scraped your fingers against the siding, trying to deepen the crevice you'd made without obliterating it completely. 

_”Shit.”_

You looked up, angling your head to avoid some loose debris falling through the massive fissure that had flayed the crust of Xandar. The sky opened up some thirty feet above you, a sickening red and green hue, ribbons of gray clouds strewn across the expanse, and the column you were currently holding on for dear life rose maybe fifteen feet above you. Even if you could climb it, there was no way you could make it back to solid ground. 

_Guess I'll die, then._

“Haha, NOPE, not today, Satan,” you breathed, and you tested the integrity of your relatively comfortable handhold. It held. 

Inhaling a deep breath, you set about carving another hole at thigh level, and began the treacherous and tedious task of walking up the sheer side of the _goddamn cliff_. The quakes seemed to have subsided for the moment, but you didn't let yourself bask in that knowledge. Any moment, they could be back to tear through the remainder of Xandar and toss everything in the apocalyptic gravity of a dying planet. 

“What a day to not wear my cool-ass rocket boots,” you groaned, face-palming yourself with the dirt wall in front of you. 

About halfway up, you felt the subtle vibrations emanating from below you, causing the column to sway. Chunks of rocks rained from above, and you hugged yourself into the dirt, trying to avoid the larger pieces of debris. 

“This is bullshit!” You gritted your teeth and started climbing faster, digging out crevices in the wall to support your hands and feet. 

Static fizzled in your ear and you brought your hand to your communicator, trying to adjust the volume. 

“Why do I always forget about this?” You mumbled, heart beginning to thump wildly in your chest. 

_“-the Hel do-s thi- thing w-rk?”_ The muffled voice rang inside your skull and you jolted back at the volume, an unexpected laugh tearing itself from your lungs as you dodged another falling rock. 

“Loki! Holy shit, is that you?” You asked excitedly. 

_“At y--r service...p-ssibly,”_ his voice was tinny and the static ran into his words, reducing them to not much more than barely intelligible garbage. 

_“-the wrong channel, dips--t! Don't to-ch -at!”_ Another voice broke out, and the line went dead.

“Well, Aldia's awake,” you concluded aloud. _Which means we have a pilot._

You pressed your finger to your earpiece. “Hello? This is nothing like when we scaled those mountains on Achernon. Could definitely use an assist, Aldia.”

The line stayed silent, and you sighed. You pulled yourself up the last foot of rocky column, flopping onto the rough, but mostly solid chunk of ground, secluded on all sides by at least forty feet of dead air. 

“Nevermind, Satan. I guess today is the day.”

The planet growled and shivered, shedding hunks of rock from your perch and causing it to pitch dangerously. You sat up on the dry soil, crossing one leg over the other and flicking your wrist out onto your knee. 

“Man, and I _just_ became stupid rich,” you complained, switching on your visor in anticipation of the world being torn apart, and the oxygen being ripped from the atmosphere. It'd buy you a few seconds. Maybe. 

Scanning the open air above you, you searched for any signs of motion. There was nothing, only the sickly clouds swirling against the ominous sky. 

“Really thought you guys would be here by now,” you said nervously, twisting a dirty hand in the lengths of your hair. “Am I talking to myself? I think I'm talking to myself.”

A zig-zag crack ran straight through the middle of your perch and you leaped up, watching in horror as half of the column crumbled away, dissipating into the inky depths beneath you. 

Standing unsteadily, you briefly wondered what was down there. “Guess I'll find out soon enough, if the fall doesn't kill me first. Which, it will. Okay.”

You took a deep breath, setting your jaw. _I'm going to fall. Let it be on my terms._

“Alright,” you whispered. “My will and last testament...Aldia, if you can hear this, you get all my stuff. Shocking, I know, right?” You paused. “Loki, uhm...”

The ground slanted, and you lifted off your toes, digging your heels into the ground to keep your balance. 

“Gentlemen, it's been a privilege, blah blah,” you half-quoted firmly, squeezing your eyes shut and outstretching your arms on either side of you. Exhaling what very may well be your last breath, you allowed yourself to tip back, bracing for a free fall into the pits of the doomed planet. 

It never came.

Something grabbed your wrist, pulling you roughly back from the edge and into a solid object. 

“Are you mad?” The voice said lowly. Your eyes shot open, and you found yourself staring directly into concerned green irises. 

“What?” You said dumbly, trying to figure out how _he_ could be standing here, on this meager platform, with you. You retracted your visor, hoping your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

He stared at you, unblinking, and you hardly noticed the blue aura surrounding your forms. Loki's hair blew around his face, and it took you a moment to realize that both of your feet had lifted off the ground. You were suspended in midair, slowly being drawn to somewhere above you. Finally, you broke your gaze from his, tossing your head back to look up. The _Artemis_ sat in the sky, your line of vision cloaked in blue light. 

“We have a tractor beam,” you commented flatly. 

“You have a tractor beam,” Loki confirmed, shaking his head slightly, but still staring at you with an odd expression. He gripped you tightly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your upper back, and you were suddenly very aware of his proximity. The wind whipped around you both, and you shivered, but you didn't think it was the dropping temperature. 

 

“Oh, Gods, gross. You guys don't need to hold eachother that close. You're back on board.”

You dropped your arms instinctively, and Loki snickered. He pulled back slowly, finally averting his gaze. “I may want to warn you...” he began, speaking to you quietly. 

“Idiots!”

Aldia was fuming. Her golden curls quivered in rage against her flushed cheeks, and she slammed her fist against the cruise controls of the _Artemis_ , ripping her seatbelt from her body and leaping to her feet. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” She marched towards you angrily, striking both of your shoulders with the palms of her hands and causing you to stumble a few steps back. 

“What?” You said defensively, raising your hands against the small angry blonde woman in front of you. 

“What happened? You went onworld without me? And why do I feel like I've been sleeping for a month!? I feel terrific!” She shouted angrily, and you looked at her, confused. 

Loki intervened. “That may have been my-”

“Shut it, Morticia!”

He slammed his jaw shut, pursing his lips and glancing sideways to you, apologetically. 

You conceded, nodding your head and putting your hands in your jacket pockets. 

“Okay, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, but can we at least get out of this atmosphere? The planet's imploding,” you nodded casually out the front window, noting the craters opening up and devouring the planet, piece by piece.

“Of course I know that, you think I don't know that? It's like I don't have 42 degrees from varying collegiate institutions from across the galaxies,” she muttered, jumping back into the pilot seat and veering the craft out into the, currently welcoming, embrace of space. “Or _eyes_."

“Cool, thanks for saving my life, I'm gonna go wash up, kay, byeeee.” You pranced to the restroom, attempting to scrub the gravel and red dirt from under your fingernails. Your hands were torn and bleeding, and you winced as the soap seeped into the ragged flesh. “Fudge,” you cringed, muttering under your breath. You splashed cool water across your face, staring at your reflection with minor disdain. Your hair was matted and a mess, and your skin was reddened with abrasions, a particularly nasty cut running from your temple down to your cheek. 

You dried off, grabbing some gauze and a roll of bandages and left the bathroom. You sat down at the steel table at midship and started to address your hand wounds. 

“I can help you with that.” You looked up as Loki took a seat across from you, gesturing towards your hands. You were awkwardly trying to adhere the bandage to your wrist with one hand and failing slightly miserable. “May I?”

You nodded, handing him the gauze and glancing downwards at the table. Gingerly, he took your hand in both of his and you flinched at his initial cool touch.

“Apologies,” he murmured, and set about wrapping your most damaged hand with gauze, then adhering it with the bandage. 

“No, it's fine,” you said quickly. “It actually feels...kind of nice.” He stopped and you felt him look at you, but you kept your eyes down, the heat starting to rise in your cheeks. After a moment, he continued, plucking your opposite forearm from the table and addressing the scrape that was winding its way from your wrist to the crook of your elbow. 

“Back on Xandar,” he started, his voice curious. “You were going to let yourself fall.”

Finally, you broke off the staring contest you were losing with the table and found Loki's eyes, gleaming in the low light of the outside constellations. 

“I didn't,” you asserted, fidgeting nervously. You watched as his long fingers flew over your skin, wrapping the bandage in not-too-tight overlapping circles around your forearm. “I was going to fall anyway,” you sighed. “Figured...you know, make it your decision, right-ow!” You winced as an icy finger scraped across an open part of the abrasion, feeling like a thousand needles plunging into your wrist. 

“Foolish,” Loki commented darkly, ignoring the pain he'd caused. 

“Ease up there, why dontcha,” you said tightly, through gritted teeth. He finished wrapping your wrist and tucked the bandage inside itself, but kept his hand perched lightly around your wrist. 

“Nothing good comes from falling into blackened pits of despair. Literal or otherwise,” he murmured, almost as though to himself. 

“Cryptic,” you noted, still staring at the lithe hand encapsulating your own. 

_“Ahem.”_

You jumped at the sudden intrusion, while Loki simply withdrew his hand and leaned back, seemingly unsurprised at the pint-sized fury lingering in the middle of the room. 

“Okay, _talk_ ,” she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at you. 

You beamed. “Howdy, sleeping beauty. Have you checked our bank account lately?”

She looked momentarily confused, slowly withdrawing a small electronic rectangle from her pocket. She fiddled with the buttons. “I don't see how- _holy shit._ ” Her eyes went wide and she almost dropped the device. “Is this….?”

“Yup.” You leaned back in your chair, tossing your bandaged arms behind your head and propping your boot on the table. “It's real.”

She tossed a hesitant look in Loki's direction, as if she couldn't be even be angry with him in light of this. 

“So...everything went better than expected?”

You smiled. “As expected. Minus that last part.”

“Uh...okay...maybe..celebrate?” She struggled with the words, still gawking at the impossibly large figure flashing in the account. 

“Absolutely!” You jumped up, brushing a spot of dirt still caked on the shoulder of your jacket. “You know, I'd _kill_ for Burger King right now, honestly. Or earth sushi.”

The blood drained from Loki's face, making him even paler, a feat you didn't think was possible, but you didn't pay much attention. 

Aldia nodded slowly. “Why not both?” 

“Why not just buy the restaurant chains and eat for free!?”

“A little counterproductive, but I like your spirit!”

“So, Earth? It's been a while-”

Loki stood up suddenly, drawing both of your attentions. He shook his head, seeming to take the time to choose his next words. “We...can't go to Earth,” he started slowly, not satisfying either of your gazes. 

“Just illusion yourself, or stay inside the ship. We won't be long,” Aldia quipped, irritated. 

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that, but nicer. We'll bring you back something, too, don't worry.”

Loki feigned a smile, but it was clear he was nervous. He took a step forward clasping his hands together. “Not exactly what I meant.” He paused, and Aldia lifted an annoyed hand at him, motioning for him to continue. 

He glanced at you. “Thanos, I believe, is headed to Earth, in his search for the infinity stones. I fear that is not the best avenue for a celebratory meal.”

Aldia looked confused. “Than-who?”

Your eyes widened and you took an involuntary step back. “But...”

He bowed his head slightly. “I refer to my previous idea of choosing a distant corner of the cosmos and settling there, for the time being.”

Aldia threw her hands in the air. “Am I missing something?”

You turned towards her, running your hand through your hair. “What happened to Xandar. That was Thanos.”

Her jaw dropped, her blonde curls falling gracefully in front of her cheeks. 

“No shit. He-he's going to do that to Earth?” She voiced softly, her eyes becoming cloudy as she stared off into literal space. 

“It's not his ultimate goal, but if he doesn't get what he wants, then he very well may seek that as an option.” He continued to knead his hands, eventually dropping them when he noticed you watching. “Your Avengers may give him no choice.”

You straightened your posture. “So we stop him,” you said simply. 

He looked at you incredulously, visibly taken aback by your proposal. 

“You can't _stop_ Thanos,” he replied drily.

“Just because you failed doesn't mean it's impossible,” you threw back. He flinched, raising an offended brow. 

Aldia had sat down at the table, and was searching through the intergalactic web on her tablet. “I'm kind of with the mass-murdering alien god on this one,” Aldia said in a hushed tone, skimming through articles about Thanos and his conquests. “It looks like you just stay out of his way.”

You shot Aldia a look, and you saw her eyes, fraught with worry and sadness. 

“Look, (Y/n), we're not heroes. We're scrappers, rogues, _bounty hunters_ when need be, but we've never been heroes. Leave this to the pros. They can handle it.”

You crossed your arms, not liking that she made a lot of sense. “I suppose,” you admitted begrudgingly. “But I'm still hungry and I want a celebratory dinner, so can we find somewhere to eat?”

She gave you a small smile, rising from her seat and dashing to the helm, giving your arm a supportive squeeze on her way by. “You bet. You said you wanted sushi? There's a place a few jumps from here that serves Flerken tentacles...”

Her voice trailed off as you walked away, heading back to the cargo hold, a numbness spreading through your chest. Was Earth doomed as well? Your home planet, not that it had ever felt like much of a home to you, but still…there was a sentimental, familial bond that you'd never been able to shake. You lowered the hatch to the rear door so you could gaze out at the void, the twinkling lights of the distant planets mind-boggling numerous. Any one of those planets. Any one of them Thanos could be going to, yet he chooses Earth. Your fingers curled into a ball, nails digging deep into your palm until the pain yanked you out of your head. 

You felt a presence steal besides you, and you marveled at how he always managed to find you in a moment of emotional burden. Is this just how you always were?

“If your brother is still alive, do you think he's there? On Earth, defending it with the other Avengers?” You knew it might strike a chord with him, bringing up his lost brother, but you were honestly curious. 

He never faltered. “If my brother is still alive...” He mumbled, seeming to ponder the gravity of the idea. “Possibly. He's a soft-hearted brute, and Earth is the only home he has left. It's where we were traveling to when..." He ended that thought. "We had decided to reestablish Asgard there. What was left of it.”

He stood by your side, and your shoulder brushed against his arm. You glanced up at him and noticed he had been looking at you the entire time, fine lines etched into his concerned brow. 

“What would you give to see him again?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

"It's probably for the best that he thinks me dead. I've been nothing but a burden. He's well rid of me.” His jaw flexed as he uttered the words, and a pain shot through your chest. He gave you a small smile and your heart seemed to melt. What had happened between the Battle of New York and now that had transformed him? He deserved the chance to recompense. 

“I think we should find him.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, and you couldn't tell if he was about to laugh or not. 

“You really desire Earth cuisine that desperately?”

You slapped his arm playfully, and he feigned injury. “It's not about the sushi, not even about the Whopper's. I think it would be good for you.”

He leaned against the glass, crossing his arms and arching a dark brow. “What concern is that to you?”

You watched the way his lips formed the words, slowly and delicately, tearing your gaze forward when you realized you'd just been staring. You blushed furiously, fiddling with the bandages on your hand. “You're my friend,” you said quickly, the words tumbling from your mouth. “I'd like to see you happy.”

“I hardly need Thor to be happy.”

For some reason, the way he said this made your stomach flop and you shoved your hands into your pockets, tapping the glass with your boot to distract yourself. 

“But it'd be nice to see him again, yeah?”

He sighed. “We can't. It's regrettable that Earth is your home planet, for many reasons-” You shot him a look “- _but_ my advice is to look forward. Find what's next.”

You shifted your weight to lean on the glass, mimicking Loki's stance. “And what's next for you?”

He paused, knitting his brows and glancing out into the void. He was silent for a few minutes, and you felt as though he was having an unspoken debate with himself. 

“I'm not completely sure,” he finally said, crossing his arms behind his back and leaning on his heels. “Wherever you're going, I assume. If you'll have me.”


	11. Boom Boom Pow

Your heart slammed to a halt in your chest, and your left eye twitched. “Hm?” Not believing what you'd heard, you asked again. “What was that?”

A coy smile spread across his lips and he glanced down. “If it's alright with you, that is.”

You gulped. “Sure. You're free to stay as long as you want,” you said in a hollow voice. 

He rolled his eyes, advancing towards you and placing a hand against the glass by your head.

“Why must you be so difficult,” he groaned, lowering his face and delicately pressing his forehead to yours. You stood, stunned, and looked up at his closed lids. His mouth was parted slightly and you could feel his cool breath brush against your cheek. You were about to ask him what he was doing, when you were hit with a sudden realization: He was waiting for you to make the first move. 

Loki, prince of Asgard, rightful ruler of Jotunheim, God of Mischief and Lies was standing in front of you, waiting for you to make a move. You expected your head to swim, or some other nonsensical physical reaction to ail you, but you were oddly calm. Your heart skittered a bit in your chest, but you felt confident, grounded. Taking advantage of his closed eyes, you raised yourself onto your tiptoes to bring your lips closer to his. With a delicate touch, you met his smooth lips briefly, the tenderness of the gesture tugging at your heartstrings. You pulled back. This vulnerability was not something you were used to, and it created an unsettling pit deep in your chest, but it felt...almost necessary. 

“Yes,” you said softly, nudging your nose against his. “Please stay with me.” 

He cupped your face gently, slipping his parted lips around yours and slowly moving them in rhythm. This was nothing like the first time, that first night when he confessed so suddenly how he felt. There was no battle for dominance, no aggressive, territorial behavior. It was you and him, on the same plane of existence, simply enjoying eachother's company. 

You brought your hand up, lightly caressing his cheek before laying it on the back of his neck, and pulling him down firmly. He smiled against your lips, temporarily breaking off the kiss to give you a quizzical look.

“What?” You squeaked, suddenly self-conscious. “I know you've got moves.”

He laughed against your temple, his breath tickling strands of hair across your forehead. “I thought we were having a nice moment.” The lilt of his voice drove your heart into your stomach and, for a moment, you felt lighter than air.

“It's a very nice moment. I'd just like a nice moment with tongue.”

He sighed and obliged you, pinning you against the glass wall of the airlock and running a lithe hand through your hair, gently gathering a fistful at the nape of your neck and tugging slightly. His mouth was on yours, fervent and strong, not yet aggressive. You raised a leg and he caught it, wrapping it around his waist and pulling you closer into him. Your breaths started coming quicker, and you ran your hands up his chest, then his neck, tangling in his hair. Using the leverage from your lifted leg, you pulled yourself up, effectively straddling his waist while he stood, and supporting your weight against the airlock. Your lips melded together seamlessly, and he ran his frigid tongue along your lower lip, eliciting a low moan of pleasure from you. Even with his cool skin against yours, it began to heat up and you struggled to shrug off your jacket, tossing it to the floor beside you. He pulled away briefly, his breathing not quite as laborious as yours, but not even either. He moved to the crook of your neck, brushing his soft lips delicately, agonizingly, over the sensitive skin, and you lolled your head to the side, giving him better access. He spun around and moved to a stack of cargo, seating you on the cold steel and sliding his lips down to your clavicle, tugging at the neckline of your shirt. 

“Shit,” you breathed, closing your eyes as his lips grazed the top of your chest. He halted, glancing up at you. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yup.” You shot your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and running your fingers along his defined torso as you helped him lift it over his head. His hair fell in ringlets to his shoulders, and you saw a hint of the feral look you'd seen that first night reappear in his emerald eyes. Your abdomen knotted in excitement, and you moved your lips back to his, reveling in his cool skin pressed so close to yours. 

“Well, this hardly seems fair,” he breathed between kisses, gesturing to your shirt. Responding to his own comment, he slipped his hands under the thin fabric, lifting it up and off in a swift movement. You barely had time to regain your composure when his mouth was back on yours, his hands sliding gracefully around your ribcage and upwards, tracing the lines of your shoulders. You shivered, pulling him against you harder, sending your fingers fumbling to his trousers.

“Holy shit, do we need an intervention!?” A shrill screech tore through the cargo hold, and you let your head fall against Loki's shoulder in disappointment. You withdrew your hands from the half-unlaced ties and dropped them in your lap, letting out an audible groan. Loki exhaled unevenly in your ear and pulled back, mussing your hair with a chilled hand and waltzing away to look for his shirt a few feet away. You grabbed your own shirt from the cargo beside you, adorning it ungracefully and hopped down onto the ground, crossing your arms and staring Aldia right in her oceanic eyes. 

“We need a signal,” you said flatly. 

“No, what _you_ need is to stop…. _canoodling_ with god-tier felons!”

“Should I leave?” Loki inquired, pulling his shirt over his head and slowly bringing it down to cover his abdomen, then swiftly re-lacing his pants.

“No,” you said at the same time Aldia shouted “Yes!” 

“Jesus, what, are you sculpted from marble or something?” Aldia seethed. Loki just stood there, dumbfounded. 

“I'm going to...check our heading?” Loki said uncertainly, striding out of the cargo bay on long legs. He tossed you a wink and a snicker as he passed you, and you blushed, wrapping your arms around your body. 

“I don't like this,” Aldia said bluntly, folding her arms and jutting your chin out at you. All you could do was shrug. 

“I...don't really know what to tell you,” you mumbled honestly. 

“How about 'Aldia, I promise I won't bang the guy that tried to enslave the Earth and killed at least 80 people'?”

You fidgeted uncomfortably. “I'm sorry, I just don't see him that way.” 

“Mhm, mhm. So you're falling for this whole 'tortured, sad, woe-is-me, pretty boy' act? I just don't want to see you get hurt, that's all.”

“Hey, I'm fine,” you said softly, bringing a hand to her cheek to brush the blonde hair from in front of her eye. “When have I never been okay?”

She leaned into your hand, shutting her eyes briefly. “I know, it's just….” She took a stabilizing breath, straightening up and looking you hard in the eyes. “It's been you and me for a long time, now. This is changing the dynamic and I don't want it to tear us apart. Why is he still here?”

“I'm not sure,” you half-lied, tapping your toe against the metal ground. “But I don't think he has anywhere else to go. I told him he could stay.”

She took a step back, cocking her head. “Well I'm glad that was a group decision,” she said drily. “He's another mouth to feed, to clothe, another body for entrance fees and taxes-”

“Aldia, we made 2 million units today. We're fine in the financial department. Plus, he has... _talents_ that could be incredibly useful to us.”

Her face twisted in disgust and she held up a hand. “I'm gonna stop you right there. I don't need to hear about the guys' _talents_.”

“No, I-”

She turned on her heel, marching to the bay door, when Loki came walking briskly through. 

“We have company,” he said ominously. I suggest-”

The ship shuddered violently and pitched to the side, the lights flickering and going dead. The emergency alarm blared, and you heard Aldia scream as she was tossed viciously across the cargo hold. Another blast to the _Artemis_ and the ship spun in a death roll, flinging you to the ceiling. Your head hit against the machinery, and black spots dotted your vision. The cabin was bathed in the crimson light of the emergency powercells, and the shrill pitch of the alarm indicated that the hull had been breached. The ship lost artificial gravity and you felt your body moving numbly, small, untethered items bouncing around you. Your head grew light as the oxygen seeped from a puncture somewhere aboard, and you tried to flex your fingers. You couldn't feel anything, except the pounding in your skull. 

“Aldia,” you mumbled, as you saw the unconscious form, sporting blonde hair, suspended about ten feet from you, leg pinned to the wall by the floating table. It had been ripped from its supports in the attack. You tried twisting your neck to search for Loki, wincing as feeling returned and a spasm shot through your back.

A blue haze encroached on the corners of your vision and you felt yourself slip in blackness, a cold weight sitting heavily in your chest.


	12. Party Rock

You woke with a gasp, sputtering and heaving, trying to force oxygen to course through your starved lungs. After a violent coughing fit, you raised a shaking arm to wipe your mouth, realizing that you were in absolute pitch darkness. You tried adjusting your eyes, to no avail. Feeling behind your ear, you discovered your earpiece/visor was missing, and you let out a stream of curses. Your boots had been removed, as well as your socks, and your jacket was still in the cargo hold. It was downright arctic, and you felt like you had just woken up from a slumber in a deep freezer.

“Hello?” You croaked, your voice cracking almost uselessly against your parched throat. You could barely hear yourself. Fumbling around in the dark, you searched for anything that could give you a clue as to your surroundings. The floor was metal, frigid and unyielding. It smelled like dampness and mold, and you could only guess that you were in the brig of whatever craft had ambushed you.

The _Artemis_.

You gripped your head at the memory, feeling something cool and sticky caking the entire right side of your face. Was Aldia okay? Was Loki?

Oh, gods. What happened?

“Hello!” You tried again, louder this time. “Someone get me the hell out of here!”

You thought you heard a voice respond, and you froze. “Hello?” You said again, trying to silence your rapid breathing. 

“(Y/n)?”

The voice was barely audible, but there was no mistaking it. 

“Loki,” you whispered. He sounded so distant, like you were communicating across an ocean during a thunderstorm. 

“Are you okay?” You shouted, scrambling to your feet and trying to find a wall, or anything you could use to support yourself and move around the room with. Walking in a straight line for what was about 10 feet, your fingers touched the cool steel of a wall, and you used it to guide yourself, searching for a grate or a vent. “Loki?” You called out again, banging on the wall methodically, trying to gauge his location. “Is Aldia with you?”

How big was this room? You walked for minutes along a single wall until you found the junction, angling off sharply, and you continued to follow. Taking cautious steps along the perimeter, you shivered as your bare feet pattered against the barren ground, wriggling your toes in an attempt to restore blood flow. “Kind of reminds me of our first date- shit!” Your toes skidded against something slick and you pivoted backwards, your legs slipping from underneath you and sending you crashing to the solid ground. You landed directly on your back, knocking the wind out of your lungs, crimson stars exploding behind your eyelids: the first color you'd seen since you awoke. You lay there for a moment, struggling to catch your breath as the pounding in the back of your skull subsided. 

“Jesus,” you breathed, unseeing eyes peeled wide open. “What I wouldn't give for a goddamn flashlight.” You propped yourself up on your elbow, gingerly sitting up and checking for any injuries extending beyond a bruised backside. 

_Only my pride,_ you thought grumpily. From your sitting position, you felt a slight breeze rustle through the air, dancing sourly through your hair, and you raised a hand to your mouth in disgust. You'd never had fish tacos, but you imagined it smelled like what rancid fish tacos mixed with straight up shit might smell like. You gagged inwardly, scrambling to your feet and retreating a few feet, whipping your head around for any hint as to what might be giving off that horrendous odor. 

The air was still again. You sighed, growing increasingly irritated at your blindness and shoved your hands out in front of you, trying to find the wall once again. Hearing a muffled voice, you made your way slowly to what felt like a slated square. An air vent? It was rectangular, about the size of a standard Earth envelope. 

“Loki?” You whispered. An unsettling silence had blanketed the room, more than just quiet. It felt….hostile. Almost like darkness itself was watching you, and you found yourself holding your breath. 

“(Y/n?)” His hushed voice came again, and you felt like this was even less productive than playing Telephone with cans and a string. 

“It's me,” you replied hoarsely, heart pounding as you shattered the oppressive silence. “What do you see?”

He hesitated. “Not much, honestly. An empty cell, about maybe 5 times the size of the one aboard the Ravager vessel?”

“You can see?”

He chuckled, and it sounded hollow. “My lineage does come with its perks. Albeit, barely.”

Another foul wind echoed through the cell and you shivered, the skin on the back of your neck prickling, eyes widening. “I-I don't think I'm alone,” you whispered, not without a healthy dose of subdued terror. 

“What do you mean?”

A sharp sound tore through the air and light flooded the room, searing your eyes. You arms shot up to cover your head and you ducked, falling to the ground in a defensive motion. 

 

“Gentlemen!” An enthusiastic voice called out, reverberating entirely too loud against the metal walls, and you cracked a lid open, trying to get accustomed to the bright lights. 

“My ladies,” the voice purred, oozing a sense of faux seduction. “All of you genderless beings! Welcome once again to your nightly entertainment! Welcome to The Crucible!” A chorus of cheers echoed throughout the space and your stomach plummeted. You were a lot less alone that you'd originally thought. Peering through your fingers, you spared a glance upwards, jaw dropping slightly as you took in the scene before you.

The walls of your cell climbed about twenty feet until they were abruptly shorn away, topped with a manner of barbed wire and twisted steel, and you gathered the defenses were used as a deterrent to anyone who was able to climb that high. _Or they just had a hell of an interior decorator,_ you grimaced. 

Rows of bleachers surrounded what you now understood was an arena of sorts, and they were packed to the max; about three or four hundred people, aliens of all species dotted the crowd, and they were all standing, tossing limbs in the air and shouting excitedly. 

Entertainment?

You snapped your neck to the side, mostly accustomed to the obnoxious light filtering down from above. The floor was an absolute mess. Crimson splattered the majority of the steel, floor and walls alike, peppered with swathes of grisly green and blackened blue as well. A still-sticky pool of scarlet lay to your left, and the splash pattern indicated that was where you had slipped only minutes before. Shuddering, you glanced down, noting the coagulated blood coating your clothes.

What you hadn't noticed was the massive shape slumbering only a few feet ahead, thickly muscled forelegs folded under its barreled chest. Dull gray scales covered the entirety of its body, sections of pocked skin clearly visible beneath, its meaty neck culminating in a crown adorned with two very large, _very deadly_ looking antlers. The cruel instruments were sharply curved and covered with dried gore, strips of damp fabric still twisted around the blackened bone. 

“Holy Christ,” you whispered, eyes popping open. “This shit just got all _Gladiator._ ”

You heard Loki's voice strain from the grate, but you weren't able to make out what he was saying. 

“I've got to go,” you said hesitantly. “You'll probably be fine. I..may or may not, but probably, definitely might become part of the walls in a minute.” You took a stabilizing breath, reaching instinctively to your waist for your blaster, only to be cruelly reminded that it wasn't there. “But to hell if I ain't going down without a fight,” you muttered drily, eyeing the still-sleeping behemoth warily.

You raised your head, scanning the crowd for the announcer, listening darkly to his words as he continued to rile up the crowd. Supposedly, they did this every night. How was this still entertaining?

 _The suffering of others will always entertain someone,_ you thought irritably. 

You caught sight of him, dressed in worn black leather, a crude megaphone planted firmly to his thin lips, his bald head glinting in the severe light. 

“Hey, asshole!” You shouted, thanking the heavens that your voice had, mostly, recovered. The announcer cut off his spiel mid-sentence, turning his attention down to you. From what you could see of his distant expression, he looked more amused than irritated. 

“And there she is, people! Tonight's contestant!” His lips curled into a sickening smile, revealing missing and mostly rotten teeth, but you ignored his unsettling appearance. Instead, you wanted answers. You tried to shove your rage down, where it boiled angrily in the pit of your stomach, in favor of a more diplomatic approach. 

“You the one that attacked my vessel?” You inquired, flexing your fingers at your side. The announcer shrugged his shoulders, tossing a dramatically guilty smile over his shoulder, and the audience erupted in a cacophonous fit of laughter. Taking a sharp breath, you arranged your priorities. “Are my friends okay?” You asked evenly. 

He slapped a gloved hand to his chest. “Oh, what a bleeding heart,” he said sadly, drawing a finger from one yellowed eye down his crusty cheek. “For the moment, dollface,” he projected through the megaphone. “Depends on how long you last in the ring!” He was met again with a roar from the audience, and you cringed, grinding your teeth together in seething contemplation. “Without further ado, I present to you The Crucible's very first Terran competitor-”

“Excuse me, Mr.Asshole?” You shouted once again, interjecting his flamboyant display. “I'd like my jacket. It's a bit drafty in here.” You felt naked in your thin tee, and very, _very_ underprepared for whatever scenario awaited you. The feel of the soft leather would do a decent amount to put your mind at ease. And, you know, its amor-like properties had saved your hide on multiple occasions, so there was always that.

He dropped the megaphone, cocking his head and eyeing you with increasing disapproval. He looked around at the audience, and their faces had also fallen slightly, as if they were unsure what to make of you. 

“Ain't your errand boy, Terran.” This warranted a few snickers from the audience, and you tucked your hair behind your ears, setting your feet against the ground in a steady stance. You knew your way around Ravagers. An unruly bunch, the lot of them. No way to warrant their respect, as they have none to give, but you could certainly get their attention. Or at least on their nerves, and that prospect made you smile, if not just barely. 

“Aye, but you are my captor, are you not, O' Great One?” You flourished a hand and bowed deeply, and the crowd broke out in small bouts of laughter, most seemingly uncertain of your demeanor. “Tell you what: You explain the rules to me, and when I win, you get me my jacket, yeah? Or you let me and my friends go. Dealer's choice.” You set your lips in a smirk, arching a brow and staring straight into the Ravager's unamused eyes. “Only one of those ends without my foot in your ass, by the way.” By this point, the audience had resumed their whole-hearted whooping and cheering. 

His face broke out into an eerie smile, and you knew exactly why: You were good for business. Anybody who's ever seen any professional wrestling knows that if you get the crowd on your side, you've got the match. Unless they're going for controversial shock value, you thought inwardly. Either way, you were fairly certain no one would be pulling any punches in this arena. 

He brought the megaphone back to his mouth with a renewed sense of vigor. “Alright, contestant! The rules are simple. The last one to keep their guts inside their body without losing their life is the champion!” You kept a cruel smile plastered on your face, but inside, your chest had plummeted into the deepest recesses of your stomach. 

_Damnit. I went from almost getting laid, to imminent evisceration. Typical._

You turned towards the massive creature, still sleeping peacefully, and clenched your fist. “Am I at least allowed a weapon?”

“But of course, brave warrior! Make your choice.” He gestured to the crowd, and you were suddenly met with an assortment of flying objects, raining from high in the bleachers and from all sides. You darted from side to side, narrowly escaping a rusted mechanical-looking spear, and almost jumping right in the path of a deadly double-headed axe. You dodged a couple of odd bottles, some still with liquid swishing inside, and glass shattered all around you. The crowd was throwing random objects, in addition to potential weapons. 

_Freakin' Ravagers._ Your fingers laced around a sturdy, yet thin steel rod, the end tapered to a razor point, and you plucked it from its resting place, embedded in the ground, cautiously marching towards the monster. 

“That's not your opponent!” The announcer expelled excitedly. You halted, confusion muddling your features. “That's Frank! Resident crowd-controller and arena cleaner-upper. If you harm Frank, your automatically disqualified, and he gets to eat you!”

You rubbed your temple with your free hand, squeezing your eyes shut, thoroughly exasperated. 

“Jesus, just point me in the direction of whoever's ass I have to kick!” You shouted, slamming the butt of the spear against the ground with a solid _thump_.

He grinned mysteriously, shushing the crowd with a wave of his hand. His voice came out in hushed tones, still amplified by the megaphone, but doing even more to piss you off. This gross showmanship was really, really getting on your nerves. 

“Everyone,” he began, pressing a finger to his lips. “Please lend your ears. Tonight's main event, Champion for the last thirteen days, everyone give it up for-”

You tuned him out as he named the reigning champion, something with entirely too many consonants. Your knees felt weak and your fingers gave the slightest tremble against the corroded metal of the spear you gripped in your hand. You had no armor. Hell, you didn't even have _shoes_. You had no idea where you were, or if Aldia was okay, and you didn't know what could be happening to Loki while you were stuck here dealing with this fiasco. 

You were ripped from your thoughts as a horrendous grating sound assaulted your ears from straight ahead. Across the arena, a metal door was sliding open, protesting against rusted hinges, giving way to a hulking form. The crowd shrieked as the ground seem to shake with every deliberate footstep. The figure emerged into the blazing arena lighting and you lowered your head defensively, clutching your measly spear by your side. The rugged shape was coated in stony skin, rough outcroppings protruding from colossal shoulders.

“David, meet Goliath,” you muttered under your breath.

A hush fell over the crowd as the Kronan slammed its weapon against the rocky palm of its hand in anticipation, the grisly club stained a sickly blackish color from repetitive victories. It roared, a horrible throaty sound that reverberated throughout the steel arena, and you figured that this must be what a landslide sounded like up close, right before tons of stones and earth covered your bruised and bloodied corpse. 

Sounds like a fun time. 

After a moment of hesitation, you darted back towards the air vent, shoving your face as close to the panels as possible, hoping Loki was still able to hear you. 

“Take care of Aldia, will you?”

No response. Your heart sank and you turned slowly on your heel, straightening your posture and solidifying your grip on the smooth metal rod in your hand. 

“This is hardly fair,” you whispered to yourself, a faint smile playing across your lips. 

 

The Kronan roared, bowing its head and barreling straight towards you, restraint nor strategy clearly part of its style. No, this was raw, brute force. It lifted the thick club above his oblong head with both hands, closing the gap between you much too quickly. Terror anchored your feet to the floor, and you stared at the rapidly approaching threat, squaring your shoulders and narrowing your eyes. 

What was that phrase? The bigger they are, the harder they fall. 

_I just wish this thing wasn't that big._

 

With a speed that surprised you, the Kronan brought its weapon down, the club whistling through the air as it descended directly over your head. Almost too late, you leaped to the side, bare feet skidding across the grimy floor, hands splayed out in an attempt to stabilize you against the shattering thud that shook the arena as the club dented the floor. 

_Holy shit._

That was too close. 

Your body finally reacted to the threat, no longer trembling in frozen fear, but instead switching into battle mode. A calm aura settled over you, the rapidly pumping adrenaline clearing your muddled mind and reinforcing your limbs. You drew the spear to your side, smiling slightly as you felt your body begin to become accustomed to the fight. It had been too long since you'd engaged a foe of this caliber, and the first time you'd fought without gear. 

“Oh, if I had my stuff, you'd _so_ be dead.”

Your opponent was leaning forward, still overextended from his mighty swing and you took full advantage. You darted straight ahead at full force, toes dancing across the pocked wood of the club and pushed off, launching your body into the air and towards the Kronan's massive skull. You flicked out your left arm as you dove through the air, catching the thick neck in the crook of your elbow and swinging yourself onto his back, trying to balance as closely between what would normally be shoulder blades as possible. The Kronan let out a confused grunt as its regained its posture, lolling its head from side to side, jostling you only slightly with its limited mobility. Instinctively, it raised its arms, trying to swipe at you, but it was no good. The colossal shoulders of the rock alien impeded such a movement, and you allowed yourself to breath a sigh of relief. You'd never had cause to fight a Kronan before, but for as much as they were lauded for their battle prowess and raw power in physical combat, they had a major handicap when it came to smaller, swifter foes. Get close enough, and they can't touch you. 

The Kronan tilted its head, a screeching grumble tumbling from its solid mouth as it continued to swipe at the pest alighting on its shoulders. You hung on tightly as a swing of the club grazed your head and you ducked, pressing your cheek against the stony hide of its neck. Furious, it stomped its feet, hurling the club across the arena where it embedded itself between two rusted panels with a ricocheting _thwack_. 

You slid your spear upwards, notching the tip underneath a faultline in the rocky landscape against the side of its neck, angling it straight down. 

“Oi, Rocky!” You shouted against a mound of ear. “I really don't want to kill you, but I will!” 

It roared, slamming its own face with a pizza-sized palm as it tried to swat at you. “Stop moving!” You commanded and shoved the spear down a few inches, chipping chunks of slate gray material from the crevice. The alien ignored you, instead lumbering towards the nearest wall of the arena and headbutting it, causing tremors to ripple throughout the solid mass of Kronan in an attempt to destabilize you. 

“Come on!” You almost pleaded with the creature. You took no pleasure in killing sentient beings, especially in an environment where it was encouraged for the sole purpose of sport and entertainment.

“If either of us dies, _they_ win! Don't you get it?!”

The Kronan stood up, shaking its head as it recovered from pounding against the metal wall.

“Like winning,” it grumbled and spun around, slamming its back against the sheer wall. Stars exploded across your vision as the back of your skull knocked against the metal and you gasped, frantically trying to hold onto your weapon and the Kronan's neck, simultaneously feeling your legs slip out from under you. You slid down its back, gripping at the leather straps of armor strung across its body. Your fingers lost their grip on your spear and you fell, the weapon still lodged in the side of the Kronan's neck. Aware that you were fully exposed, splayed out across the vast expanse of its back, the Kronan made to smash its body against the wall again. 

Not wanting to become a pancake, you dropped, landing solidly on your feet and rolling between tree-trunk legs. 

“Shit!” You screamed at the alien, who had yet to notice that you had escaped, and was still crushing its backside against the metal sheeting. “And that's why people are such assholes! Being nice gets you nowhere.” You exhaled unsteadily, knowing you could've ended this nightmare minutes ago. “Now you have to die,” you commented lamely, running a tense hand through your hair and searching your immediate vicinity for another weapon. The massive double headed axe was to your right, but you were pretty sure it weighed at least twice what you did, so you decided against that embarrassment.

Somehow, your opponent still didn't notice you and you threw your hands up in exasperation. Your eyes landed on a thick ceramic bottle at your feet, unscathed from its previous flight into the arena and you grabbed it, surprised at its hefty weight. 

“Hey, Pebblebrain!” You threw the bottle at its head, fifteen feet away and it made contact with a sickening shatter, shards raining against the stony flesh with a musical pattering. 

That got its attention.

Thankfully, the outline of a plan was beginning to form in your brain, and you didn't have time to shoot it down. It was going to have to work. Not very original, you admitted, but it was something. 

“Over here!” You positioned yourself so that the axe was between you and the Kronan, and you waved loftily as he took increasingly larger steps towards you, culminating in a horrifying run at breakneck pace, headed straight for you. You walked backwards at a brisk pace, keeping the creature's eyes latched onto yours, and you pressed your lips together in a grim line as he lashed out a hand to pull the battle axe from its place lodged in the floor. 

The earth-shattering roar ripped though the arena, pounding against your skull in dizzying waves, and you planted your feet firmly on the ground, tossing a sparing glance over your shoulder to make sure you were positioned correctly. 

“Sorry, dude,” you breathed, and he was almost upon you. You could see the beady pupils set in the angular face, glinting sourly against the white light filtering from the stadium posts. Gathering all of your strength in your legs, you thrust yourself to the side at the very last moment, feeling the heated air reverberate around you as the sharpened steel of the axe nicked your hip. You clattered to the ground, knocked aside by the contact, and couldn't quite see what happened next. 

A sound like none other you had ever heard tore through the thick air, dwarfing anything the Kronan had uttered. A second accompanying cry writhed its way into your ears, savagely ripped from the lungs of the creature. The horrific ballad made your blood run cold and you snapped your head in the direction it was coming from, behind you, scuttling a few feet back in sheer, horrible fascination. 

The beast that had been slumbering was on all fours, eyes ablaze with hellfire, wide mouth baring terrible razor teeth. Its head was bowed forward, twisted antlers jutting straight out in a fearsome display. The double-headed battle axe was protruding from its shoulder, which was leaking blackish-green fluid. Atop the behemoth's antlers, the Kronan twitched and wriggled weakly; one cruel antler had gone straight through its abdomen, while the other had speared its throat, severing most of the tendons and leaving the hulking head attached by only a few bluish strands of organic-looking matter. 

Your eyes were stretched wide, and you raised a hand to your mouth, attempting to shield your labored breaths from the menacing creature only ten feet away. It growled again, fiery eyes still focused on its current prey, and it wrenched its head back and forth, tearing the Kronan's head from its body with a quick _snap_. The rest of the body dangled limply, slowly sliding down to the ground in a heap of rocks. Seemingly satisfied with the kill, the behemoth shook its body, shuddering as the curved blade of the axe slipped from its pocked flesh and fell to the ground. Returning its attention to the disembodied head at its forelegs, the creature dipped its muzzle, devouring the hunk of stony flesh, while the sound of boots on gravel crunched sickeningly throughout The Crucible.

Almost an afterthought, your raised your head to the towering bleachers, noting that the entire audience had gone deathly silent. Even the announcer looked to be at a loss for words. After a moment of shocked contemplation, he broke the silence. 

“A-alright folks. There you have it. Tonight's winner and new Champion…..The female Terran.” There was no applause. 

Slowly, you got to your feet, wincing as you pressed weight on your left leg. You looked down, seeing a stream of crimson running from your hip down passed your ankle, and beginning to pool beside the instep of your foot.  
Not bad, you thought lazily. Almost made it through that whole ordeal without a scratch. The pounding in your head was becoming unbearable, and you heard an annoying buzzing sound from somewhere far off. The lights became uncomfortably bright. You just had to rest your eyes, only for a minute. 

Before they shut, you saw the room spin 360 degrees, pivoting towards the cold floor. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was a splash of crimson as your cheek fell into a puddle of your own warm blood.


	13. Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Quick chapter for today!!!....because I've been struggling with updating, among other things. Shocker. Hope life is treating every single one of you beautiful souls well._
> 
> _~Hugs and kisses xoxoxox, Kipkat <3 _
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From what you could gather, you'd been escorted to a cell, different from the arena that you had awoken in initially. The journey had been hazy, but you definitely remembered blacking out on several occasions. Two humanoid guards- you couldn't remember anything else about them, for the life of you- had taken either of your arms roughly, parading you through a mostly disgruntled audience. Looks of disapproval, the occasional inspired face, etched their ways across your mind, then blackness. 

Misty, synthetic light filtered through opaque fixtures, causing dust motes that were dancing through the air to glint and glitter. 

Darkness, again. 

Cold, wet concrete colliding against your skull. 

_Why couldn't I have been unconscious for that part?_

You sat up slowly, fingers absently pressing at the wound that was still gushing blood at the lower left of your navel. You toyed with the ragged tear in your shirt, twisting a finger through the opening and pursing your lips. 

“That dick ruined my shirt,” you mumbled, feeling your energy fade once again, and you collapsed onto your back, still gripping the bloodied fabric between your fingers. 

 

“Christ, (Y/n)!” A shrill voice pierced through the murky veil surrounding your consciousness, and you stirred, but stayed down. You were so sleepy. Just...five more minutes…

“Can't you do anything? At least come over here!” A pause, then an irritated growl, and you could picture Aldia shaking her head back and forth, curls bouncing angrily about her flushed cheeks. 

“What are you even good for,” she stated, rather than questioned, under her breath. A distant pressure held against your skin, but you couldn't quite tell where, and you convulsed involuntarily, eyes shooting open at the sudden intrusion of sharp pain.

“Mother of Funyons,” you gasped, dim light sinking into your eyes and lighting the gray-toned world around you. 

“Hey, hey, it's okay.” 

Your irises flitted around, trying to draw the world into focus, and soon you found yourself staring directly into wide cerulean eyes. 

“Stay awake, don't go passing out on me, alright?” Her voice was firm and authoritative. 

“Yesss ma'am,” you drawled, woozily. 

“Jesus, you are covered in blood- I mean, it's really not that bad.”

You heard the sound of tearing fabric and you tried to look down, but you couldn't raise your head. The adrenaline had ebbed away, and you were beginning to feel _everything._ The cut on your skull ached with a dull roar, but the laceration on your hip- that burned like fire, shooting pain ripping across every nerve at the slightest motion. 

“It's not all mine...I slipped...in someone's else's nasty...sloppy seconds...before anything even started.” You clenched your jaw, trying to talk through the pain as Aldia wrapped a cloth tightly around your waist, coiling it around the top of your thigh to secure it. She sidled back up towards your head, cupping your neck and lifting it off the cold ground and into her lap, drawing her thin fingers across your forehead. 

“Wh-where's Loki? Is he alright?” 

She paused, and through your muddled vision you saw her toss a glare across the room. “We don't need him. You're gonna be fine.” 

You nestled your head against Aldia's warm legs, vaguely noting that her shirt was missing, and only a purple sports bra wrapped around her chest. 

The fire from your wound seemed to spread, singing flesh and bone alike as it slowly emanated outwards. You gasped, finally mustering enough energy to lurch into a sitting position. Your hands twitched to your face and you gripped your hair, squeezing as tightly as you could to ward off the impending wail threatening to tear itself from your lungs. 

“Something's wrong,” you strained, bracing yourself against another wave of pain. “Loki- I can't-”

You screamed, burying your head between your knees, not caring as the abrupt motion caused the wound to open further. The pain was already too great. 

You felt Aldia drop her stoic demeanor, panic lacing every word, her trembling fingers fighting to comfort you as you rocked back and forth in her arms. 

“Damnit, do something! The cut isn't even that deep, I don't understand. It shouldn't be bleeding that much, and it definitely shouldn't be causing this much pain!”

You didn't hear him approach until he knelt in front of you, placing his hand firmly against your hip, and bowing his head slightly. 

“The weapon was poisoned,” he said flatly. “A rare one, not native to Asgard or the surrounding realms, so I have little experience. It took me a while to decipher what it was myself.”

You saw him shudder, the motion barely perceptible, and you dragged your eyes up his ragged form, blinking away the dark spots encroaching upon your vision. You stopped at his forearm, a nasty scarlet cut carving a swathe against his otherwise immaculate skin. You narrowed your eyes, squeezing them against the onslaught of internal pain. He placed a frigid palm against your forehead, providing instant, albeit temporary, relief from your scorching fever. 

“You're bleeding,” you murmured dumbly, swatting blindly at the air until your fingers wrapped loosely around his narrow wrist.

“I'll survive,” he said tightly as he plucked your hand from his, gently placing it against your side. “I always do.”

“They're having you fight, too,” you stated, voice quivering barely above a whisper. 

“As I've said, I'm fine.”

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut as an intense wave of pain wracked through your body. You were so glad, dare you say even grateful, that he was alive.

“But she's not!” Aldia's cry thudded dully against your ears and the room began to twirl, shades of gray and black darting across your marred vision. “You're just going to let this happen? Why don't you do somethi-”

“I can't,” he strained, cutting Aldia off abruptly. You felt the damp air ripple around you, a soft breeze brushing against your cheek as cold fingers drew across your scorching skin. 

“You should rest,” he murmured, moving his chilly palm back to your forehead. The shadows of the room began collapsing in on one another, and your eyelids became heavy, too heavy to keep open…

Before they shut, you faintly realized the two emerald eyes peering down at you, set in a pale visage of guarded concern. A smudge of dirt graced the space beneath his left eye, continuing up the ridge of his cheekbone. Vaguely aware of your own actions, you lifted a hand to his face in an attempt to wipe it away. 

“You're so pretty,” you said weakly, a fleeting sense of alarm flaring in your chest as you saw the pained expression flicker across his face. 

A relieved sigh escaped your lips as the pain ebbed away, out into some unknown void, until you were utterly and completely numb. At the same time you slipped into unconsciousness, you were aware of it, welcoming it, even though it felt forced. 

.  
..  
...  
....

Loki swallowed thickly, removing his hand from your forehead once he was sure he'd lowered you into a sleep state, taking away your pain. He didn't blink as he watched your lids slide shut, guiding the hand that had just barely caressed his cheek gently to your side. 

“All we can do now is hope that she's strong enough to fight it.”


End file.
